The Founders: Witch Hunt
by smccrack11
Summary: Founders story, the rise of Hogwarts in a time of darkness. Violence, battles, and possibly romance in the later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"Have you forgotten?"

The words stung. In the many passing years since the fire, she had but one protector. Godric's face was stony, unreadable. Helga turned away from him, busying herself with the dried herbs.

"Helga…" He spoke again, his voice had not changed. She had been little more than a child then, tending to her mother's garden, the day the witch hunters had come.

 _"Helga?" Marian's voice cried out from the kitchen window. The small cottage stood alone in the clearing. A safe space away from the villagers. Helga looked up, her honeyed hair hung behind her in a single, long plait. Her mother's, much the same, was frazzled, sticking to her face and neck from the heat of the cauldron._

 _"Yes, mama?"_

 _"Come inside, dearest." Helga paused a moment, not wanting to leave the warmth of the midday sun._

 _"Now." Though Marian said it softly, Helga felt the order. She took her basket and hurried inside, her bare feet slapping softly against the cobblestones._

 _Marian Hufflepuff took her daughters arm gently, pulling away the basket._

 _"Helga, you must listen to me. I need you to go into the cellar-" She lifted a finger to her daughter's lips, silencing her protests. "Hush sweet, listen to me. No matter what you hear, no matter who calls to you, you must not come out. Make no noise."_

 _"But mama, why-", as Helga began the question her nose perked. The familiar smells of lavender and heather were tainted now by something unfamiliar. She could smell the warm, salty scent of horses, but there was a sharpness she had not known since childhood. A yell in the distance made her freeze. Of course, the smell was metal. Metal and the sweat of men._

 _Marian led her to the sleeping palette, lifting her wand the rushes on the floor cleared, and a faint, golden doorway shone against the dirt. She held Helga tightly as the door opened and she ushered her daughter into the musty cellar._

 _Helga gripped her mother's arm. "Mama! You must come too! You must!"_

 _Marian shook her head, "No, sweet. All will be well. I am sure they only want to speak with me." She stooped and brushed a light kiss across Helga's freckled forehead. "Remember Helga, not a sound. Do not move from this place until I come for you."_

 _Helga opened her mouth to protest, but the sound of horses and the yells of the men pierced the quiet of the woods. They were closer than ever. Marian pressed her wand into Helga's hand and with a wave of her arm the earth closed up above Helga Hufflepuff._

 _In the sweet-smelling ground, Helga could no longer hear the men, though she felt the vibrations of their feet on the floor over her. She pressed her hand into the earth, trying to reach out to her mother through the barrier. The wand in her hand seemed to pulse. Then there her shelter shook, something heavy had fallen. Helga remained silent, even as she felt the men above her, racing, searching._

 _It felt like hours before the cellar door opened. She rushed to the ladder. Only magic could open the entryway, but she froze as she saw a metal-encased foot descend._

 _The man leapt down into the cellar, ignoring the lower rungs of the ladder. Helga shrunk into the wall. He was tall and dark skinned, he had to stoop to fit in the low cellar, and he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness._

 _"Hello?" He called. It was then that Helga knew, in her fear she was no longer visible. She shrank further into the shadows, knowing the spell could not last._

 _"Helga?" He asked again, calling her by name. Only her mother knew her name, only her mother knew her. Helga stayed silent. In her moment of curiosity, her magic had lifted, her looked startled, seeing her appear against the earthen wall, as if from nowhere._

 _He knelt before her, oddly graceful in his bronze armor. She could see his face now, more clearly than before. He was very young, and looked very kind._

 _"I am not going to hurt you." He whispered, offering his hand. Seeing her eyes trace over his gauntlet, he removed it, again offering the now naked hand._

 _Helga hesitated a moment, then touched his fingers. His hand was larger, softer than hers. Not the hand of a villager. He led her gently up the ladder, and she felt a moment as if she were floating._

 _Helga looked around, seeing the open blackness of the sky above her, instead of the ceiling of her home._

 _"Where is my mother?"_

 _The man looked at her sadly. She was suddenly aware of the smell of fire and something hideous. The crumbled walls of her home were blackened. As the man continued to watch her she felt the prickling of panic in the pit of her stomach._

 _"MAMA?" She cried out, straining her ears. The answer was silence, even the owls made no noise._

 _"Helga, shh. We cannot draw attention. Scouts may still be in the forest." The man placed a soft hand on her shoulder. Helga threw it off, running toward a strange, sickly light at the mouth of the clearing._

 _Fire, fire had never been so hateful. The stake in the center held something twisted and black, something horrible. The stench that hit Helga as she stepped closer stopped her._

 _Her mother had not had her wand._

 _She was almost insensible to the sound of the unsheathing of the sword behind her. The men had come from the trees, circling her. She heard a low curse and realized the bronze knight was at her back, holding a glittering blade before him._

 _"We have been waiting for you, little one." The man in the brown cloak sneered. She did not turn to look at him. "These woods have been blighted far too long with your black magic."_

 _She turned at that, her braid flying in the firelight as she clutched her mother's wand._

 _"My mother…" She whispered. The men laughed._

 _"Sir Gryffindor!" One of the men called. The knight inclined his head and Helga stiffened. He was one of them._

 _"Sir Gryffindor, I see your talents were not exaggerated." The man continued. "The Baron told us only you could find the girl."_

 _"I only wish you had called upon me sooner." The knight murmured, "I could have taken care of the mother as well."_

 _Helga rounded on him, her panic rising as she was his drawn blade looming over her. She knew so few spells, she had practiced so little. She felt her throat tighten, but no scream emerged, only sorrow, blind sorrow consumed her. She was not afraid to die. Perhaps then she would see her her mother again, even her father. The dark-skinned knight winked at her as he turned, slicing through the nearest cloaked figure. The miller. The man did not have time to register his surprise, the jeweled blade in the knight's hand had killed him instantly, not spilling a drop of blood. The fine hairs at the base of Helga's skull stood on end. The sword was goblin forged._

 _"You're-?" She could not finish the question. The men about her had overcome the shock of seeing their companion slain by their supposed champion. They rushed forward, weapons at the ready._

 _The Knight twirled, "Run child." He whispered._

 _He was too late. The wand, loyal to Helga's mother had never known her before. Now, somehow, it knew of the death of its mistress. Helga felt an unfamiliar jolt in her fingers, a sudden warmth and pulse of power, of righteous anger._

 _CRACK_

 _The men fell back, thrown by some invisible force into the darkness of the woods. Gryffindor made to move forward, his strange sword at his side, but Helga placed a small hand on him. He turned to look at her, his eyes dark with anger._

 _"I have failed my duties, child. They deserve their fate." He growled._

 _Helga looked back as the flamed died down about the stake. She trembled at the thought, but shook her head._

 _"No sire," She whispered, tucking her wand into the folds of her gown. She could feel the magic welling inside her, and she grasped the knight more tightly. Tears dribbled down her cheeks._

 _"No more death."_

 _With that the girl and the champion disappeared, apparating into the night._

"I have not forgotten, Godric." Helga answered. He was older now, no longer the young, handsome knight who had saved her. He had grown a beard in the passing years, gained new scars. Still, his golden eyes shone out with youthful vigor. Had circumstances been different, Helga would have smiled to see them. She fidgeted with her tea.

Godric Gryffindor relaxed slightly, never letting his eyes leave hers.

"Then you will come?"

Helga turned and looked out the window. She owed him her life, it was true. She owed him many things. He had given her this home, safe from the muggles, and he had given her the books. The passing six years had been spent in near solitude, tending to her garden, trying to heal herself. There were potions that could make her forget her mother, that could make her forget the fire, the faces of the muggle men so intent on killing her, but she did not wish to forget. Remembering had made her strong.

"Godric…" She bit her tongue, "Why do you want me there? I am not a warrior."

She felt his hand on her shoulder, "You do not have to be a warrior, Helga, you merely have to be the witch I know you to be."

She tensed, and he felt her shy away from his hand, eyes downcast. She rose, as if to leave.

His voice rose, a new edge in his words. "Or is that it? Have you forgotten magic? Have you forgotten what your mother DIED to give to you?"

Helga turned, clutching the wand in her pocket, but not removing it.

"Magic is not meant to be given to those who lack the courage to use it." He growled. She had made him angry, she knew. He was glaring at her. "Your mother died to give you that wand, Helga. You dishonor her if you let it go unused."

Helga felt the unfamiliar sting of anger rising behind her eyes.

BANG

In a flash of blue light Godric flew into the wall of the cottage. She had not said anything, but the wand had jumped at her thoughts. The power coursing through her made her feet lift from the ground.

"WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO SPEAK OF MY MOTHER?" She bellowed in a voice darker and more horrible than her own. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF MY PAIN?"

Godric turned, smiling now. Seeing his look of triumph, Dayna raised her want again. His beard caught fire.

He pointed his own wand at his face, panicking as the blue flames licked his skin. Dayna dropped to the ground, and with a swish of her wand his beard was doused, full again as if it had not been touched. She was panting, though whether from fear or exhaustion even she could not tell. It had been so long since she had been angry, truly angry.

Her eyes filled with tears, "I am sorry Godric, I didn't mean to…"

He stopped her, putting a strong hand on her shoulder. "This," His voice shook with laughter, "Is exactly why we need you."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Just a reminder that I (obviously) do not own these characters. I am just developing them in my own way. Hopefully you all like how this is starting out. This story will focus on Helga roughly as much as the books focused on Harry (meaning a lot because she is sweet and lovely and underrepresented).  
_

 _Godric reclined, his back to the roaring fire of his study. His two companions stood, the woman apparently ill at ease, the tall, thin man pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. His face betrayed nothing, his voice so low it could barely be heard above the crackling flames._

 _"Her family, Godric. We cannot accept the girl without knowing her heritage, despite your..." He paused, apparently grasping for an appropriate word, "history with her."_

 _Godric smiled, tilting his own goblet to his richly dressed companion. The man returned the gesture, but did not raise his goblet to his lips, watching Gryffindor through carefully hooded eyes._

 _"I assure you Salazar, her family are of good stock. Her father was a welshman of a good clan, I believe, a Hufflepuff."_

 _Salazar Slytherin raised his eyebrows, "I have not heard of this clan."_

 _"You would not have, Salazar," the woman spoke up, "They are of the old country. Seers and dragon trainers. Ancient peoples, but of little wealth."_

 _Salazar did not turn as she spoke, his eyes still upon Godric, who smiled broadly at his friend._

 _"We cannot all be lords and ladies, my friends."_

 _Rowena scoffed, "It is not the girl's birth that worries me, Godric. You know that." She looked to Salazar pleadingly, "We know nothing of her training, her talents. She had no tutor. How could she be expected to understand our purpose?"_

 _Godric stood then, his large form, even out of armor, creating a terrifying silhouette in the firelight._

 _"Helga performed a side-along apparation at the age of thirteen," He growled, "The same night she saw her mother murdered by muggles. She had created a home for herself in this time, kept herself safe with wards and invisibility. The girl has a greater skill for herbology and silent spellwork than even you, Rowena. Most importantly," He softened momentarily, remembering the young girl, her braid flying in the night, the softness of her voice as she forgave the muggles who had destroyed all that she had, "She is kind. She will bring balance to this endeavor."_

 _Rowena and Salazar exchanged glances. Finally after a prolonged pause Salazar smiled up at Godric._

 _"Bring her to Hogwarts, my friend. Perhaps once she is before us she can speak for herself." His eyes glittered as he held up his goblet for a toast. Godric and Rowena met him and they drank deeply._

The castle lay before them, surrounded by deep, black forests. Helga shuddered slightly. No warm glow emanated from the windows. Beside her in the coach box, Godric released the reigns to the thestrals, taking Helga's small hand.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Helga." He whispered.

She glanced at him, feigning a slight smile. He did not appear to notice. The carriage came to a smooth stop at the base of a large entryway, and Godric lifted Helga down. She shifted uncomfortably as he unloaded her trunk, and with a wave of his wand it disappeared.

"Godric-." Her voice felt small against the enormous facade of the castle. She clutched her coarse brown traveling cloak closer.

He looked at her, softening. "You'll do wonderfully. Salazar and Rowena are not dragons, you know. You need not look so frightened." He offered her his arm as they entered the castle. Once inside, the torches along the wall flickered to life, welcoming them. Godric led Helga to the entrance to the great hall, taking care to walk slowly so she could look about them. The hood of her cloak fell back, and she absentmindedly began to smooth her curls.

At the far end of the great hall, seated at the high table were a man and a woman, richly dressed in the finest robes Helga had ever seen. Both looked up and stood gracefully, and Helga could tell even at a distance that they, like Godric, would tower over her.

"Welcome home, Godric." The dark haired man smiled slightly. As they drew closer his eyes never left Helga. He had black hair to his shoulders and a fine, close beard. His eyes flashed gray, and seemed to spark with intelligence. The woman, Helga noted, appeared slightly older than the man, closer perhaps to Godric's age. She too had dark hair, which fell, plaited down her back. She watched Helga warily, seemingly dissecting her.

"May I present," Godric boomed, holding Helga's hand out as though expecting her to curtsy, "Helga Hufflepuff, of the Welsh valleys."

Helga smiled slightly, inclining her head. She felt a strange compulsion not to lower her eyes, as though she were bowing to a hippogriff. She silently scolded Godric for not allowing her to dress more formally before meeting his clearly noble companions.

"Lady Hufflepuff," the woman spoke, her voice stronger than Helga had expected, "We have heard much of you. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, and this," She gestured to the man, "Is Salazar Slytherin. We are most eager to become better acquainted."

Helga smiled again and cleared her throat. "I-I am delighted, of course, to have been regarded as worthy to join your cause." She glanced to Slytherin, who had yet to take his eyes from her face, and seemed to be concentrating intently upon something. She felt oddly exposed, and saw Godric out of the corner of her eye, the muscles in his jaw jumping in barely contained anger.

"That's enough, Salazar!" He shouted, and the man blinked at last, turning his gaze to Godric.

"Surely, you cannot expect us to accept her without _some_ idea of her qualifications." He said quietly. Helga stiffened, suddenly understanding.

"Were you...practicing Legilimency?" She asked, her voice faltering. She had read of the art, but never had any desire to practice it. She had been mostly alone, mostly occupied in the spells of daily living.

Slytherin bowed to her gracefully, "I apologize for the lack of forewarning, Lady Hufflepuff. I meant only to better my understanding of your background, which is..." he paused, giving a meaningful look to Ravenclaw, "Adequate."

Rowena nodded, seeming to relax slightly at Salazar's words. She smiled again at Helga, before gesturing the the seat beside her. "Please my dear, join us."

Helga followed the still glowering Godric behind the table and seated herself beside Rowena, who immediately poured her a glass of wine. As the food appeared Godric's good humor returned, and he began to speak merrily with all of them, while Rowena murmured softly to Helga, asking her questions on her favorite subjects and spells. Helga chatted happily enough, delighting the noble witch. She laughed as Godric began to regale them with embellished tales of their journey to the castle, finding herself oddly at ease in her new company. She noted though that every time she looked to Salazar Slytherin, seated at the far end of the group beside Godric, he was staring back at her, his expression unreadable.


	3. Chapter 3

Helga had excused herself from trio after their meal with promises of a tour of the castle the following morning. She had attempted to sleep, but found she could not. The gray eyes of Salazar Slytherin still seemed to flash in her mind. She had few, if any secrets. All that she had ever been had long before been exposed to Godric. In the solitude of her small cottage she had learned to revel in her few private pleasures: reading, cooking, tending to her garden. Still, it felt strange to have this man, who she hardly knew, sifting through her memories. Lingering on glimpses of her little home by the sea, her travels with Godric before the wars took him to the east.

Finally, surrendering to her restlessness, Helga stood and wrapped herself tightly in her cloak and slipped from her room, padding silently through the empty halls. She made her way to the Great Hall, finding it empty, her companions having gone to bed well before. Her nose twitched as a familiar smell of low-burning embers reached her, and she unthinkingly followed it through a small door at the end of the hall.

A kitchen, larger than any she had ever seen spread before her. Smoke-stained stone walls were lined with wooden crates that seemed to overflow with herbs and sacks of grain, and low wooden tables, clear of clutter, were edged with copper dishware.

"Miss?" Helga started at the small, high pitched voice behind her, and she whirled about.

A small, long-eared house elf stood, her back straight and proud. Helga let out a small squeak. She had never before met a house elf, though she knew of their kind.

"Begging your pardon, Miss, but the kitchens is no place for a lady ma'am. No, no, only a place for Bally." The elf spoke quickly, her voice seeming to rise in pitch as she became more distressed.

Helga smiled, kneeling before the elf so she could look into her face, "I'm sorry, Miss Bally was it?"

The elf nodded furiously, her mouth agape. She wore a simple blue cloth, tied about her small body as a dress. Helga noted that the hem of the cloth was, like the walls, stained in soot.

"Now Bally, is it only you working here in the kitchens? Is that what you said?" Helga asked.

"Yes Miss! Master brought me here all the way from the Hollow to cook for him!" The little elf smiled, puffing her chest proudly, "He loves his Bally's shepherd's pie! Nobody else can make it right for him, ya see?"

Helga nodded, smiling. Bally appeared to be Godric's house elf. Helga had always known that wealthier wizarding families had many house elves, and she was curious that no others were working in the kitchens. She stood, putting her fists on her hips as she surveyed the room.

"Well Bally, I'm certain your shepherds pie is the best in all of the land! I'm glad to have such a fine elf in charge of these kitchens." She dropped her voice low, "You know, sometimes I fancy myself a bit of a cook too, Bally."

The elf's eyes widened in shock, "Oh no, no, miss! The kitchen is no place for a noble lady, no! If you need anything just tell Bally, miss!" She wrung her hands nervously. Clearly, she had never met a witch or wizard who wished to cook for themselves.

Helga shook her head, "No, Bally, you misunderstand me. I'm only here to help you! See?" She turned and flicked her wand to the walls and crates. Instantly, the soot from the walls melted away, revealing warm, red stone. The crates popped open, and the herbs began to fly to the ceiling and hang themselves. The fires burning out in the ovens sprang to life and crackled merrily, filling the room with a new warmth. Bally watched frozen, her mouth hanging open, as dancing orbs of light swirled around the pans, popping out every dent and shining polishing out ever burn and scuff.

Helga turned and caught the elf gently by the hand. "Bally, the kitchen is the heart of any home, you know. It should always be bright and warm. Soon these halls will be full of children, you know, and many other people besides. Did you know that?" Bally shook her head shyly. Helga continued, "Don't you think that a fine head cook needs as many helpers as possible? To keep the kitchen warm and open, to keep the youngsters full of Bally's special shepherd's pie?"

Bally was smiling now, her entire face split in a wide grin. "Yes, Miss. That's an awful lot of mouths for one Bally."

Helga smiled lightly. Already, she had an idea to help Hogwarts. Perhaps Godric was right and she would prove useful after all.

The muggle witch hunts had not been kind to the wizarding world. Many families had been stripped from their wands and lost to the flames, or else forced from their homes and into hiding. The house elves, loyal to the last, wound not abandon their duties, even in death. So they puttered around empty homes and cared for masters that no longer lived. Helga had easily convinced the others, and with Bally's help she soon found the abandoned house elves. Many had been delighted at the opportunity to live at Hogwarts, others had refused, though sadly, to leave their posts. Helga had not pressed them. Hogwarts was not to be a prison or an escape, she told them, it was to be a home, a safe haven for all magical beings. Soon, the kitchens were filled with elves. They busied themselves with the castle, airing out the long-forgotten rooms, weaving rugs and tapestries to decorate the corridors and classrooms. Helga took a select few to the greenhouses, helping them to cultivate herbs and food for the kitchens. Salazar had grumbled at the presence of elves near his potions herbs, but Helga assured him that she cultivated all magical fauna personally.

Rowena busied herself with the castle library, apparating throughout the continent in search of magical texts. She and Godric further busied themselves with the castle's defenses. The muggles would see only dangerous ruins, and should they attempt to enter they would be overcome with a horrible nausea and uneasiness. The grounds were protected by wards, and the corridors guarded by suits of armor.

As the weeks passed, Helga found herself gravitating toward Rowena. The woman's sharp tongue was a welcome change from Godric's bumbling jokes, and she carried herself with a certain calming grace that Helga found more agreeable than the stark feeling of uneasiness that seemed to shadow all of her conversations with Salazar. The men had grown increasingly tense as the castle grew more and more into a school. One evening, as the four sat in Godric's study, he had stated definitively that he believed that Hogwarts should focus it's goals on defense and duel training. The wars in the east had gotten worse, he said, and the new generation would be facing a time darker than any that had come before. Helga had held her tongue, though Rowena had voiced her distaste for teaching children "dark arts and war".

Some time later, while Rowena worked on a spell for magical detection, allowing for the school to find young witches and wizards in non-magical households the moment their magic began to manifest, Salazar had entered in a fury. The spell, he hissed, would be useless. The muggles would surely kill the children the moment the magic manifested. Rather, he insisted, they should send for the children in pureblooded families when they came of age, and leave the muggleborns to their fate. Rowena had flown into a fury, which Helga had soothed. As the workloads increased, Godric and Salazar began to aim their ire at each other, arguing frequently, though never in the presence of Helga or Rowena. Daily meals had become a tense affair, with neither willing to speak to the other, and both reacting jealously if they felt that Helga or Rowena were favoring the other.

Two months after her arrival, Helga sat with Rowena in the kitchens. The two women had taken to spending quiet afternoons together near the warmth of the hearths, while Helga baked and Rowena read in a small chair by the fire. The elves scurried about, hardly making a sound as they prepared the night's meal. Helga had busied herself with pumpkin pastries, when Rowena cleared her throat lightly.

"Helga?" Rowena never seemed to raise her voice far above a whisper. Helga turned, seeing Rowena's eyes had grown sharp as she stared into the fire.

"What's the matter?" Helga asked, smoothing her honey curls away from her face with the backs of her hands.

Rowena darkened, jerking her head toward the door. "They're at it again."

Helga paused, straining, and in a moment she could heard Godric booming in the Great Hall. Though she could not hear him, she knew that Salazar was there too, muttering under his breath.

"-NOT YOUR PLACE TO TELL…NO RESPECT…!" Godric's voice cut through the quiet, straining through the heavy doors and into the kitchens. Rowena had stiffened considerably, and Helga eyed her, wary of stress.

"Shall I do a silencing charm?" Helga asked. Rowena shook her head, leaning back into the chair and looking worn.

"For what? So we cannot hear our dreams crumbling around us?" Rowena sighed, "If this continues, Hogwarts will never be opened."

Helga dusted her hands busily on her apron, creating a cloud of flour. "You can't say that, whatever this is it simply must work out…"

"—SLIMEY, LYING LITTLE—"

"—they can't keep on forever. Godric will—"

"—ONLY CARE ABOUT ONE THING—!"

Rowena placed her head in her hands, covering her ears. The elves had all drawn together in a protective circle in the far corner of the kitchens, looking fearful. Helga felt a painful, acidic taste rising in the back of her throat as the men continued to hurl insults at each other. It was too much.

"ENOUGH!" Helga shouted. The small woman ran to the door and yanked it open, storming into the Great Hall. Godric was towering over Salazar, practically foaming, while Salazar sat twirling his wand dangerously. At the sight of her, her hair wild and her face streaked with flour and pumpkin innards, the two jumped.

"I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU TWO NITWITS SCREAMING EVERY SINGLE DAY!" She shrieked. Her hair whipped about her in an almost electric frenzy, "YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER! YOU ARE GROWN WIZARDS NOT BICKERING PAGEBOYS!"

Godric's mouth hung open. "H-Helga…you don't even—"

She rounded on him, "DON'T YOU DARE, GODRIC GRYFFINDOR! I KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT! THIS IS A SCHOOL, NOT SOME FORSAKEN MILITARY ACADEMY! WE ARE NOT AT WAR!"

Salazar snickered for a moment until she turned to him, "AND IT IS NOT A CHARM SCHOOL EITHER, SALAZAR! WE AREN'T A BREEDING GROUND FOR PUREBLOODS, NO MATTER WHAT YOU MIGHT THINK! WE ARE ALL EXHAUSTED! DO YOU EVEN CARE?" She was hoarse now, her chest rapidly rising and falling. She shook her head as tears sprang up. "I thought you cared! I thought we were helping people." Helga turned then, and sprinted away, her long skirts flying out behind her.

She didn't stop until she reached the greenhouse. It was misting lightly, and she sank down in the mud, sobbing softly.

After a moment of trying to catch her breath she felt a cool hand on the back of her throat. She looked up, expecting Rowena, and found herself looking at Salazar. She bit back another wracking sob and pushed his hand away. He shrugged and paused a moment before sinking into the mud beside her.

"I never thought I'd see the day." He said softly. Helga sniffled and glared at him.

"What do you want, Salazar? I'm not going to apologize. The two of you have been at it for weeks!" She wiped her nose on the corner of her apron, feeling his eyes on her.

He awkwardly placed his hand on her back again, rubbing lightly. This time she didn't shrug him off. "You don't owe us an apology." He replied, "If anything it is the other way around." He chuckled darkly to himself, "I never thought I'd see the day, I said. The day Helga Hufflepuff scared Godric Gryffindor witless."

She glared at him, bleary-eyed, "You're not so innocent either, Salazar. Pure blood. What makes that the defining characteristic of everyone you meet?"

Salazar stiffened beside her, "What would you have me do, Helga? Welcome the muggle's rejects? Open my arms to the children whose parents kill our kind every day?" His voice was dripping with disgust now, "I saw what they did to your mother, Helga. To your whole family."

Helga shook her head, her voice softer now, "Salazar, they were afraid. They don't understand."

"They don't deserve to understand, Helga!" Salazar spat, "They kill us without mercy! It's a wonder we don't return the favor! I for one am tired of our kind indulging the muggles like they are spoilt babes who don't know any better! They are ANIMALS, Helga! They made us orphans!" He was shaking now, his eyes alight with anger.

Helga moved until she was kneeling in front of him, placing a small hand on his cheek. He flinched away for a moment before meeting her eyes. "Salazar…you never told me…" She whispered.

He laughed bitterly, "What, that I was spirited away in the night by my tutors after the muggles broke my father's wand? That I heard them laugh as they raped my mother? They burned everything Helga! Not a day goes by that I don't wish we could just _live_ and be happy in a world without…them!"

In a moment Helga had her arms around him, holding him tightly.

"Shh…you cannot believe that Salazar." Her tears were falling hot into his robes, but she still held him, whispering, "The men who took them, who took my mother, they were not good men, but there are those in the world who are, Salazar. We cannot hate them, if we do then we are no better than those men."

He hissed in her ear, "I cannot forgive them, Helga. I am not a saint like you."

Helga buried her face deeper into his robes, "Salazar, I know that those men were wicked. I don't deny it. I am not asking you to forgive them, but there is someone you are forgetting. You had your tutors, you had your magic, but you were left in a world that did not belong to you. So was I. We were children, Sal, but their world turned us away and ours had nowhere for us to go. If we don't open Hogwarts to all of them, every last child with an ounce of magic in their fingers, then we are creating more fear, more hate, more children with no place to call home and no one to protect them from the world they don't fit in." She pulled back, meeting his eyes again, "Sal, I spent six years alone, afraid of myself and afraid of the world outside my door. Coming here…it feels like we are building somewhere we can all belong."

Salazar's face had become stony, unreadable. Helga sat still, holding his shoulders as the misty droplets seemed to circle around them. He had mud on his face, and a gray fog was creeping around them. It seemed ages that they sat there, silently regarding each other.

"Helga?" Rowena's voice drifted through the fog from the direction of the front of the castle. Helga blinked hard, as if woken from a trance before smiling at Salazar.

"We had better go. I'm sure Rowena and Godric are sick with worry." She bit her lip, "I may have some apologies to make. I suppose I didn't need to yell." Salazar continued to look at her curiously. She shifted in the mud to stand up when in she was pulled swiftly to her feet. Salazar had stood fluidly and lifted her momentarily off the ground in his haste. She stumbled back slightly, her head swimming.

"Helga…" he whispered, and she leaned in to hear, "Promise me you won't apologize to anyone." He swooped, and for a fraction of a second he grazed her lips with his own. Helga blinked and he had taken a step back, again at a polite distance, offering her his arm. "Not until you have something to truly apologize for."

Helga nodded. She allowed Salazar to guide her back to the castle, muddied, emotionally drained, and thoroughly dazed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Helga?" Rowena called. The rain made it impossible to see more than a meter before them, but Rowena craned her head, searching for the small witch. Godric paced anxiously, muttering.

"I should go find her, Rowena. She always feels so horribly after losing her temper. I've never seen her _that_ angry before." He glowered, "And now Salazar has gone off to god knows where. Probably back to his precious dungeons to sulk."

Rowena scowled at Godric. "You think Helga is feeling _guilty_? If anyone should be feeling guilty it's you! You're fortunate Helga only yelled at you. If it had been me, both of you would have been cursed to oblivion!"

Godric's mouth dropped, "Rowena, surely you don't AGREE with Salazar?" he sputtered. "I thought you were better than that!"

"Of course not," she hissed. "But I don't think your plan is considerably better. Helga is right, and you know it! These are _students_ , Godric, not knights! They're coming here to learn. Nothing else!"

"Can we just agree to disagree?" Salazar's voice cut through the mist. Godric and Rowena started, seeing Salazar and Helga, both soaked in mud, walking arm in arm toward them. Helga's eyes were swollen, but curiously bright.

"Helga!" Godric ran forward, stopping just short of the pair before kneeling awkwardly.

Helga blushed, "Godric, stand up, you'll ruin your robes!" She chided.

Godric shook his head, "No Helga, I need to say this. You were right. We have all worked too hard to make Hogwarts a success. You have been tireless, and I…" he eyed Salazar, "We have been ungrateful. You're right." He stood, taking Helga's free hand. "Please forgive me."

Helga smiled, nodding tearfully. Godric turned to Salazar, offering his hand again. "My friend, I apologize."

Salazar regarded Godric's hand a moment before grasping it firmly. "Of course." He murmured quietly. Godric grinned, stepping to Helga's right arm and taking it up, much the way Salazar held her left.

"Now, perhaps we can put this business behind us and get on to more important matters!" He laughed, "Dinner, for one!"

They walked back into the castle, Rowena leading the linked trio, smiling lightly to herself.

The next morning Salazar sat alone, reading his letters. He had made a habit of rising early each morning, taking an hour to himself before the others came down to breakfast. He sighed, leaning back and considering his tea. The Minister had written with his faculty recommendations, imploring Salazar to come to London to meet with him personally.

While the four had remained at Hogwarts relatively to themselves in the past months, but the coming spring meant that there was little time left to prepare. While Rowena had volunteered herself to teach Transfiguration, Godric had insisted on a class in Defense against the Dark Arts. Salazar himself had volunteered for Potions, while Helga had yet to make her decision. She was brilliant, both in Charms and Herbology, though Salazar rather hoped she would not invite the students into the greenhouses. The potential for error was too great, and she had already insisted on giving the damnable house elves run of the place.

Salazar shook his head, thinking of Helga. He had been foolish to open up to her, to tell her about his family. He knew that she, unlike Godric or Rowena, would tell no one, but he still despised that he had made himself vulnerable to her. He had not meant to kiss her either, but in the moment it had seemed natural. The witch was small, but she seemed to inspire great change in all of them. Rowena had allowed herself to be drawn out of her shell, and seemed to be spending much of her time around Helga. He found himself rushing after her without thinking the day before, feeling a strange need to put himself back in her good graces. Then there was Godric. Salazar smirked at the thought, Godric, who never apologized, had fallen to his knees before the her.

"Salazar?" He started at her voice. Helga had entered quietly, her feet bare, as they often were. She stood before him in a simple blue robe, buckled at the waist, her hair pulled into a long plait. He narrowed his eyes momentarily. Still, after months in the castle, she looked more like a peasant girl than any witch he had met. She smiled at him uncertainly.

"I had hoped to find you here…alone." She spoke quietly, as though frightened of waking the others, even in the Great Hall. "I feel that I need to talk to you. After yesterday I mean."

Salazar sighed, folding the Minister's letter and tucking it away in the folds of his robes. He poured Helga a cup of tea and gestured to the chair across from himself. She sat, accepting the cup with a nod. They sat a moment, saying nothing.

"Salazar, I think that we, well both of us, got caught up in our feelings yesterday." She said carefully. "You and I seem to have so very much in common, and I suppose well, I may have gotten carried away." She peered into his face, looking for some hint of emotion, but he stared back from her, unmoving.

She took another breath, "What I mean is, well, you are very important to me. All of you are. And I don't want anything to ruin that."

Still Salazar said nothing. He didn't seem to be blinking, or even registering that he had heard her. Suddenly she heard his voice, but his lips didn't seem to be moving.

 _Hush._ He said softly, and she felt his voice ringing through her mind. _Later._

Rowena entered the room now, followed by Godric. Both paused for a moment at the sight of Helga and Salazar, leaned toward each other as if in deep conversation. Helga sprang back when she heard the door close behind her, spilling her tea.

"Careful Helga," Godric smiled, "Bally will be livid if we break her teacups."

Helga blushed furiously. Rowena took a seat beside her and gestured to the pile of letters in front of Salazar.

"Anything for me?"

Salazar passed three letters to Rowena, his eyes still on Helga. She was resolutely looking away now, sopping up the spilled on the table in front of her, her face ruddy with embarrassment.

"Well, I think I'll begin work on the tower today, if that's quite alright with everyone." Godric said merrily, seemingly unaware of any tension in the room. When silence answered him he continued, "Ah, Rowena, any word from Tallus?"

Rowena looked up from the fattest of her letters, which she had been reading with great interest. "He is in Romania. He has found the dwarfshead, as well as a few projects for your Dark Arts class." She shuddered distastefully. "He says he will be going down to Greece next, something for the forest."

Helga smiled distractedly, "And will Lord Ravenclaw be joining us after Greece?" She asked.

Rowena nodded, "I believe that's the last of it." She smiled at the other witch, "He will be delighted to meet you, Helga. I'm afraid my letters haven't done you justice."

"I hope he is careful, Rowena. Romania is not as safe as it once was. The wards are being pushed back daily." Godric had heaped his plate with sausage and wheat meal, turning now to Salazar. "And you, Salazar? Any agenda for today?" He asked.

Salazar nodded, finally looking away from Helga and removing the letter from his pocket. "Helga and I will be going to London today." He answered quietly, not looking up, but feeling the shock radiating from the witch, "We have a very important meeting with the minister."

-

 _Hey everyone! Thank you for the reviews! Your positive words are what keep me writing!_

 _To answer some questions: I'm trying to stay as close to canon as possible, which is why Helga had such a hand in bringing the house elves to Hogwarts. That is also why Salazar practices Legilimency. Luckily, the founders are a little less explored, especially Helga, so I have some wiggle room._  
 _Next chapter: I will be introducing some more familiar surnames (honestly, there aren't very many pureblood families floating around medieval Britain), more about the wars out east Godric is so hung up on, and further exploring the Salazar/Helga dynamic._


	5. Chapter 5

London.

Helga and Salazar had arrived by floo in a small, dingy alehouse. The barkeep had rushed to Salazar's side, bowing and scraping, while Helga went to the doorway to peer into the narrow streets. Salazar spoke to the barkeep in hushed whispers, and Helga only caught the occasional "Yes m'lord." Or "Nay, m'lord." As she soaked in the smells of the city. From the stoop she could see muggles scurrying past, hardly noticing her as they called out to each other and pushed their carts over the uneven stone. In all her life, Helga had never heard so many voices, all shouting and laughing and whispering at once. The street was clearly relegated to the merchants, though Helga saw a fine carriage or two pass by, curtains drawn so the outsiders could not see the nobles within. She felt Salazar's hand on her shoulder and she turned, grinning broadly.

"There are so many people!" She sang. Salazar raised a wary eyebrow. Behind him, she saw the barkeep return to his post and was pouring a thick, golden liquid into two stout mugs. "Where are we, Salazar?"

Salazar steered her further into the room, "Welcome to The Leaky Cauldron, Helga." He said, "This is Edward." Edward beamed at her and pushed the two mugs through the air, where they floated before Salazar and Helga. The drink was sweet and warming, and Helga glowed back at Edward.

"Butterbeer?" She asked, and the man nodded proudly. The drink was unlike any she had been brewed by the elves at Hogwarts, and she eagerly leaned forward, begging the recipe. The barkeep had a kindly, round face and laughed easily, though he seemed wary in the presence of Salazar.

"Lord Slytherin, Miss Hufflepuff might care to see Diagon Alley, if'n ya have time, sire." He said merrily after a long chat with Helga, during which Salazar mostly sat, staring off into space.

Salazar shook his head, shooting Helga a sharp look. "I'm afraid not Edward, Helga and I have an appointment at the ministry this afternoon. We should arrive as early as possible." He shook a silver piece out of his robes and placed it on the bar.

"Salazar, please." Helga stood in front of Salazar, almost eye level with the seated wizard. "I have never been to London before, and it isn't even midday yet. Surely we have time?" She looked into his eyes, and saw him deflate slightly.

"Very well. Only an hour though." He said sternly. Helga shrugged. Though Salazar was closest to her in age of the four, she found herself wishing that she had come to London with Godric instead, who would have jumped at the chance to explore the city.

The two made their way to the rear of the alehouse, and Helga watched as Salazar tapped his wand at the wall, muttering under his breath. As he stepped back, the wall melted away, and Helga gasped with delight as a new street spread before her.

Diagon Alley was lined with small shops and carts, and Helga noticed with surprise that several goblins and house elves were making their way down the streets, alongside witches and wizards. She peered in the shops, seeing fine cauldrons and a vast array of brooms and flying carpets. A large sign in a shop window that displayed many beautiful blades and weapons read "BEWARE OF TROLLS" with a frightening illustration of a troll, swinging his club. He roared as Helga and Salazar passed, and she shied away, closer to Salazar. He peered down at her and quirked at eyebrow, but said nothing. Helga turned to the next shop, seeing bright golden letters reading "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC". She fingered her own wand and turned to her companion.

"Can we go in?" She asked, gesturing toward the small shop.

Salazar looked questioningly at her, "But you already have a wand."

Helga turned back to the store front, "I know," She answered quietly, "This is where my mother bought it. When she was only eleven." She looked back up at Salazar. He nodded almost imperceptibly before taking her arm and leading her into the shop.

A small bell tinkled as the door opened. Helga and Salazar stood for a moment before an older gentleman with light grayed eyes peeked his head over a tower of boxes in the corner. At the sight of Salazar the man jumped up, rushing toward them.

"Master Slytherin! What an honor! Oak, dragon heartstring, ten inches. A very fine wand, my lord." He peered at Salazar worriedly, "I hope there is nothing amiss with it?"

Salazar raised a hand, 'No, no, Ollivander. My wand remains as dutiful as the day I bought it. No, I am merely accompanying the lady." He gestured to Helga.

Ollivander turned, squinting at Helga. "Have we met before, my dear?" He asked.

"N-no." Helga shook as she answered, "But I believe you may have known my mother." As she spoke she drew out her wand, and Ollivander's eyes followed her movement. He seized the wand rather suddenly, turning it in his fingers.

"My, my, Alder, phoenix tail feather, 8 1/2 inches. Well goodness me." He muttered softly before looking up at Helga. "I sold this wand many years ago, my dear, many years before you were born, I'll wager, to a young witch called Marian Terramolus."

Helga took a sharp breath, and Salazar reached as if to steady her, but she waved his arm away. "My mother, sir." She replied softly.

Ollivander's eyes widened for a moment before he responded, "And am I to assume then, that the wand has found a new master?" He asked quietly.

Helga blinked, her face feeling suddenly hot, "My mother gave me the wand before she died, Mister Ollivander. Over six years ago."

Ollivander bowed his head, handing the wand back to Helga and clicking his tongue, "Oh my. I am sorry. Terribly sorry. Marian was a lovely witch, you know. Excellent family. Of course, they lost track of her, you know, after she ran off with Eurig Hufflepuff." He eyed her now, "Your father, I assume?"

Helga nodded, tucking her wand away, "Yes. I'm afraid he is also gone, Mister Ollivander." She took a deep breath. "I had only wished to…understand, I suppose." She took a moment and breathed deeply before looking back at Ollivander and smiling brightly, "To know she stood where I am now."

Ollivander softened and bowed his head slightly to the young witch, "She was lovely, your mother, Miss Hufflepuff. Brilliant with potions, you know. You look very like her," He peered at her again in his odd way, "Fair, like your father, you know. But you have her smile."

After a moment Helga and Salazar stepped back into the street. He watched her carefully as she collected herself, waiting for her to look at him. When she finally did her eyes were misty.

"I suppose you think that was silly of me, Sal?" She asked, nudging him with her shoulder. He looked back at her a moment and she went on, "You know, I think we had better be heading to the Ministry. Can't keep the Minister waiting, can we?" She moved to walk on, but Salazar stopped her with his arm.

"Helga…" He took a steadying breath, "About yesterday…"

Her head snapped up, "Oh please, don't, Salazar. Please. I can't feel everything at once, now can I? I need a moment to breathe."

"Helga, I don't think you understand." Hearing the strain in his voice Helga softened, taking his hand.

"I know Salazar. I know better than you might think. You…acted impulsively." She smiled, "And that is unlike you. I don't think I have ever heard you say anything you did not say a million times over in your head first until yesterday afternoon. Which is fine, you know. You are used to everyone liking you, but you like to be at arm's reach, and you are afraid that yesterday made things…complicated."

Salazar nodded slowly. "But Helga-."

"You don't have to worry about me, Salazar Slytherin. I like you. I like you very much. And I promise I will never tell a living soul that you showed me a crack in your stony exterior." She winked, "Your secret is safe, Sal. You're as untouchable as ever."

Then she turned, pulling him behind her back toward the Leaky Cauldron, "Now come! We mustn't keep the minister waiting."

And Salazar Slytherin allowed himself to be lead, watching curiously as the blonde curls swung in front of him, catching the sunlight.

"The Prime Minister will see you now." The young wizard at the door bowed smartly before leading Helga and Salazar through the double doors and into the Minister's chambers.

The Ministry of Magic was located beneath the heart of London, with an entryway disguised as a confession booth in a dilapidated church. Salazar had lead Helga, wide-eyed, through the yawning halls of the Ministry, where they had been met by their guide, who led them down several winding stairwells to the Minister's office.

Entering now, Helga could see the office was richly decorated in deep reds and purples. Minister himself stood at the rear. He was a middle aged man, smartly dressed in formal black robes, free of any decoration. His thick hair had already gone gray, but his beard was full and dark. He had the look of a knight, Helga thought, with his broad shoulders and scarred hands.

"Ah, Master Slytherin. I grateful you were able to come," He turned, bowing slightly to Helga, "And I assume this is the fabled Lady Hufflepuff?"

Helga stepped forward and the Minister took her hand, bowing over it.

"Helga, sir. I fear my reputation precedes me." She looked back at Salazar, who avoided her eyes.

The Minister laughed, "Do not blame Lord Slytherin. I fear that we have an entirely different mutual acquaintance. You see, I had the misfortune of growing up not a league away from the Gryffindor Manor in Dogins Hollow. Our families have a long history."

Helga furrowed her brow, "Godric never told me he knew the Minister, sir."

"Ah, that is likely because until recently I was not the Minister. Perhaps you know me by my given title, Sir Ambrose Potter."

Helga's eyes widened in recognition. "Of course! You travelled with him to the east to fight the giants!"

Potter smiled. "I did indeed. Frightful adventure too. Were it not for Godric I might not be standing here today." He nodded toward Salazar, who seemed to be giving him a strained look. Helga realized Salazar was likely speaking with the Minister through Legilimency.

"Of course, Lord Slytherin, the final decision is in your hands. However, the Ministry does like to have some small say in the future of our young witches and wizards. Who, may I ask, do you intend to take on as faculty?"

Salazar took out a long piece of parchment, and began to read off names in a bored tone. "Naturally, Godric will be taking the Defense post. Rowena wishes to keep her hand in Transfiguration. I myself will undertake Potions. I have written to Hector Helmstead regarding the Care of Magical Creatures post, and a thoroughly acceptable healer from Saint Mungos, Anne Prewett, has agreed to act as mediwitch in the Infirmiry."

"What positions does that leave?" The minister asked, returning to his desk to leaf through sheets of parchment, quill in hand.

"We have yet to fill History of Magic, Divination, or Arithmancy." Salazar drawled.

Potter looked up, bright-eyed, "History of Magic? I would suggest Philomena Filch. Delightful woman. Studied little else at a convent up North before finally deciding she'd had enough. Her husband owns a little shop in Hogsmead, so she's very close to the site, I believe. Divination is a tricky one, seers are almost impossible to find, even in the east. Perhaps someone at Delphi could help?"

Salazar nodded, "Tallus Ravenclaw is out east procuring necessary supplies. Perhaps Rowena has already considered Delphi, I would hardly put it past her. I can owl Lady Filch, upon our return."

Helga peered over at the list in Salazar's hands. He tensed a moment before allowing her to read over his arm. There, among the other tasks, she saw her own name, underlined and flanked by a large question mark in Slytherin's decorate hand. Helga looked up, her eyes meeting Salazar's and found herself feeling oddly bare. She noticed with some surprise that his normally pallid cheeks had flushed slightly. He looked away, as though seeing her thoughts, and focused again on his papers. He took a small step away from her.

The Minister, still rifling through his papers, did not look up at the pair or notice their sudden discomfort, "Of course, of course. Tell me, when is Hogwarts going to open its doors?"

"September first."

-

 _Hi again, I'm on a bit of a roll here it seems. Thinking of starting another story so I don't get this one over with too quickly. I want to spend some real time on character development with the founders.  
Of course the Potter family is ancient and powerful, and naturally closely tied to the Gryffindors. I call their home Dogins Hollow because it had yet to be re-named after Godric (he's not THAT famous yet). I figured Molly Weasley had some healers in her ancestry, and the Filch family, well it isn't their fault their great, great, great (dozens of greats) grandson turned out to be a bit of a git._


	6. Chapter 6

Romania

 _Tallus Ravenclaw paced outside his tent. The knights had left him alone at the camp site with the healers. He was a scholar, unused to battle. Still, he the night air was humming with magic. Had they not put up their silencing charms for the benefit of the muggles, Tallus knew the air would be thick with the sound of wizards and giants. He fingered the small golden locket at his throat. Inside, the delicate portrait of Rowena was doubtless glaring at him. She had told him not to come here, but the promise of the magic scrolls of the east had been too great. Now he could not leave. Not with the wizard's numbers dwindling daily. He had written to Rowena. Soon, he knew, he would be called to battle. The giants and trolls, creatures of the distant mountains, had grown restless. The solitude they had enjoyed had been broken by the spread of man. The muggles no longer feared magical folk. Soon, there would be none left. He watched as the healers gathered together. The wounded would be apparated back to the safety of the camp. Tallus frowned, opening his locket and looking into Rowena's dark eyes, they looked back at him, softening at the sight of his worn face, before she sidled out of the frame. In her absence, Tallus felt his loss greater than ever. He might not see her again._

"GODRIC!" Rowena raced through the halls, her normally quiet voice echoing down the corridors. "GODRIC! SALAZAR! HELGA!" She burst into the tower. Her companions froze. Godric was balanced precariously on a high ladder while Helga and Salazar floated an abundance of red cloth to the ceiling, upon her entrance, the cloth fell to the ground. Godric threw up his hands in frustration.

"Well that's ruined!" He huffed, leaping down from the ladder. Rowena was shaking, holding back sobs.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Helga ran to Rowena, taking her hands. Rowena gasped, her voice straining.

"Tallus...my portrait...please!" She looked up tearfully at Godric, who had now rushed to her side, his brow creased with worry.

"Tallus? Is he here? Is he injured?" Godric asked. Rowena shook her head violently. Salazar was there suddenly, holding a strange red liquid to her lips. It looked like wine, but the effect as she drank was instantaneous. Her breathing steadied, and she began to speak, quickly and urgently.

"My portrait, I have our wedding painting in my study. I had disappeared, I was with Tallus, but I came back. She...she told me that the battle was all but lost." Rowena gasped, her eyes misted, but due to the potion she could not cry, "Tallus is going to join them!"

Helga looked up. Salazar's face was stony, but Godric had a strange glint in his eye. She turned back to Rowena, who clutched at the front of Godric's robes.

"We must go to him! Godric, please!" She cried out. "I cannot lose him. I cannot! Not now..."

Godric nodded, turning to Salazar. "What say you, old friend? It's been years since we last rode into battle together."

Salazar's eyes flashed. "Where are they Rowena?"

"At the base of Moldoveanu. The Carpathians. Their camp...it is almost lost." Rowena choked out.

"We will prepare at once. Helga, owl Potter. The Ministry must be told." Salazar said swiftly. "Take Rowena back to her quarters." As he spoke, silver armor began to wind it's way up his arms and across his chest. Helga noted the green, serpentine coat of arms that hissed and moved at his chest. At the same moment, Godric was being coated with gold armor, a roaring lion at his shield. His sword, which Helga remembered from the night they met, whizzed through the air past her head and into his waiting hand.

"I'm going with you!" Rowena cried.

"No!" Godric shouted, "Absolutely not! You have never been in battle, and in your condition..."

"I am a better healer than you and Salazar combined Godric! Tallus needs me!" She hissed. "You cannot keep me from him."

Helga looked questioningly at Rowena. Of course, her robes were loose, unbelted. She had been so tired lately, keeping safe in the kitchens. Why hadn't she realized? Rowena was with child.

"Rowena..." She whispered, and the woman whirled on her.

"No Helga! My husband needs me! I will not stay here and wonder if he is alive! I will not!" Her eyes were bright.

Helga paused a moment before nodding. "Then I am coming to."

"Helga..." It was Salazar. She could hear a strange pleading in his tone. She shook her head, not looking at him.

Godric seemed to be glowing though. "Helga is descended from dragon tamers, Salazar. She will come."

Helga nodded, turning and gliding from the room. She needed to write the minister. Then she would be ready. She felt a cold hand grip her arm before she had gotten far down the corridor.

"Helga, please," Salazar's face was strained. "Please, you cannot. Stay here. Keep Rowena safe."

She turned on him. "You think Rowena can stay any more than I? No! I have seen too much death. I am coming." She tried to pull her arm from his grasp, but he held tight. "Let go, Salazar." She rumbled. Her hazel eyes flashed as she gripped her wand.

His face was contorted in pain, "Helga, if something were to happen to you..." He seemed unable to finish. She pulled away again, but still he held tight. "Godric and I have been in battle before Helga. Please...even if you survived..."

"I cannot leave you to fight this alone." She said quietly. Then with a flick of her wand he released her, as though he had been burned. She turned and flew down the hall. In her rooms she went to her wardrobe, donning a leather breastplate. Her hair magically wove itself into a tight braid at the top of her head. She donned her boots and with a high pitched whistle called to her owl, Barnabas. With of flick of her quill she hashed out a quick letter to Potter.

 _The eastern defenses have fallen. The southern Carpathians. Send help. -H._

Barnabas took the letter and was out the window in a moment. Helga turned on her heel and made her way back to Godric's common room. She would not let Rowena be hurt. She could not allow Godric to fight alone. Salazar could not die.


	7. Chapter 7

_WARNING: This chapter contains violence and other nasty things. Read with caution!_

-

Tallus heard the sharp crack, and the healers screamed. The defenses had been broken. He did not look up from the young wizard he was attending. The wound in the man's side would not heal, almost as though he had been cursed with dark magic. His side oozed blood, strange and black. He had lost consciousness, though his face was still twisted in pain. No curse could cause this. Tallus and the witch beside him muttered over the man, their wands hot and painful to hold. They had tried everything. No troll could inflict a wound that could not be healed.

A gold gauntlet rested heavy on Tallus's shoulder and he looked up. A sudden calm washed over him as he looked into the familiar golden eyes.

"Godric." He smiled, before turning back to the man. He was lying in a pool of blood. Soon there would be nothing left.

Godric knelt beside him, "What is this?" He asked, eyeing the man. Tallus looked up, his eyes clouded with exhaustion.

"He will not heal Godric. I fear..."

"TALLUS!" Her voice rang through the quiet air and Tallus stiffened.

"You did not bring her?" He asked. Godric did not look up at him, but took off his gauntlet and removed his wand.

"I'll take over." Godric murmured, and Tallus turned.

Even in the darkness, Rowena was beautiful. Her face was pale, worried, and she clutched herself. She had come still wearing her elegant robes. Beside her was a small, blonde witch that Tallus did not recognize. She held on to Rowena, looking protective. She, like Godric, seemed to be dressed for battle.

Rowena tore herself away from the blonde witch and glided to Tallus. She stood before him a moment before collapsing into his arms. He shifted, knowing he was stained with blood.

"You should not have come." He whispered, "Rowena..."

She looked up at him, fire dancing in her eyes. "I cannot lose you." She said it evenly, certainly. And he pulled her closer.

"Oh Rowena." He whispered into her hair. She was weak, she did not seem able to hold herself up.

The blonde woman behind her shifted anxiously, seemingly unsure of where to look. Tallus felt Godric's presence behind them.

"Tallus..." Godric's voice was softer than Helga had ever heard it. "He's gone." Tallus turned back, looking at the wizard, pale and still, his face oddly peaceful now.

"What evil is this?" He hissed, and Rowena pulled away, walking toward the prone wizard. She knelt, looking at his side, now she too was stained with his black blood. Her eyes narrowed, then, after a moment her head snapped up. The color had drained from her face.

"What is it?" Godric asked. In a moment Salazar was knelt beside her. examining the wound.

"What are you fighting, Tallus?" She asked, her voice strained with fear.

Tallus turned, looking over the other bodies, busily attended by the healers. "Giants. Trolls. They seem to take shifts. The Giants come in the day, smashing at our defenses. We have lost every scout we have sent to try to find their camp. The trolls come at night. As do the dragons." He shook his head, "But they are animals. They should not be able to organize this way. We fear that Wizards from the far east may be commanding them. Dragons do not follow orders normally."

Salazar touched the wound in the dead wizards side and hissed softly. Rowena looked at him, then back to Tallus.

"Not wizards," She spoke so quietly the others strained to hear, "Vampires."

The camp had dwindled down. The warriors, at first numbering in the hundreds, were now a ragged group of perhaps twenty. Many were wounded, their bones crushed by the trolls and giants. These were healed quickly. Others had been burned with dragon flame. Those died slowly, or else healed at a crawl. Those with their bleeding wounds, their black blood like the young wizard, always died.

"The venom keeps the wound from healing." Rowena said quietly. The four, as well as Tallus and the wizard captain were all gathered in a small tent. "Turns the blood black. The pain...is agonizing." Her eyes flashed as she looked to the captain, "Have your men seen vampires?"

The captain was scarred with deep burns. His accent, thick and Germanic, made his speech slow and halting. "No, my lady. In the night, when the trolls and dragons come, we see very little." He frowned. "We have sent owls for help. But they never return. Outside our wards, it seems that little survives." he stood, looking over the four newcomers, "How were you able to find us?"

"Rowena..." Salazar spoke low, his eyes trained on the ground, "No wards can stop her."

Rowena nodded, and the captain looked concerned a moment before sighing.

"I have heard of you, of course, my Lady. The brightest witch of our age. When Tallus arrived, we had hoped he might have brought you. Now I see he has done better." He turned to Godric and Salazar, "My Lords, it is an honor. Perhaps with your help, all is not lost." His eyes lingered a moment over Helga, who stood by Salazar, looking out of place.

Godric smiled lightly. "Thank you. Helga," he gestured to her, "has also informed the minister of your plight. Hopefully, reinforcements will soon be on their way."

Helga bowed her head before looking back to the captain, who still studied her intently.

"And you, Lady Helga? Are you to join us in battle?" He asked, looking questioningly at her size. Salazar stiffened beside her, but she did not look at him.

"Helga is a very capable witch," Godric answered, "She traveled with through Britain for some time. She duels well."

"We need something more than witches who are 'capable'. We cannot protect even our own." The captain responded. "Has she ever fought a troll? A vampire?"

Helga felt her heart sinking. She would refuse, of course, to be sent home. Again, Godric answered for her.

"I would not dismiss her so quickly, Captain." His voice was hard now, commanding and militant. "Helga, you see, is from the line of Hufflepuff, of the Welsh valleys."

The Captain started, looking shocked for a moment before turning back to Helga and bowing deeply. Helga took a step back, startled by his sudden change.

"My Lady, forgive me. I was unaware."

Helga looked to her companions. Godric was smiling, as was Rowena. Tallus looked startled. Salazar would not meet her gaze. Instead, he turned and left the tent, drawing his wand. Helga smiled uncertainly at the Captain before she and Rowena followed.

"What was that?" She asked. Salazar turned, looking worn.

"You know perfectly well." He hissed. "The Hufflepuff name is well known. Dragon wranglers. The Captain could hardly have asked for a better gift." He began to stalk away.

Helga's mouth fell open in shock. "But...Salazar, I only knew my father as a child. I have never even seen a dragon!"

Salazar turned, his eyes flashing. "I know that, Helga. So does Godric, I am sure. That won't stop them though. No, Godric had to open his mouth and sentence you to your death!" He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "They will send you to the front lines now. They will leave you to the dragons."

Helga shook her head, looking to Rowena, who was now beside them, concern painted across her face. "I can tell them!" Helga cried, "I can tell the Captain I have never even met a dragon!"

Rowena shook her head sadly, "He will not listen, Helga. Godric has already told him who you are. They're desperate. I think they would send you just the same."

Salazar groaned, putting his head in his hands. In a moment Godric and the Captain were beside them now, the Captain shouting orders to his remaining men while Godric looked on.

"Night approaches!" the Captain roared, "Remember your defensive spells! Even Vampires cannot break a shield immediately! Remember your brave companions, who have given their lives to the cause, my friends! Know that aid draws near. Two decorated warriors, Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin, have come from Britain to fight beside us! Lady Ravenclaw has joined out healers! And do not fear dragon flame, friends!" He gestures to Helga, "Lady Hufflepuff has come to destroy the serpents!" The ragged witches and wizards in their bloodied armor rang out in a low cheer. Helga looked out at them now, seeing the hope spreading across their faces. She stood straighter, drawing her wand. She felt Salazar move beside her, clasping her other hand.

As they marched forward, he leaned close to her, his cool breath in her ear. "No harm will come to you." He whispered. She looked back to him, his jaw was set, and he seemed somehow even taller, more unreachable than usual in his silver armor. His eyes met with hers, and she felt a strange shiver move down her spine. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

As they passed through the threshold of the silencing spell a strange, high keening reached her ears. Helga could not see far ahead of her, though many wands were now giving off light. In the darkness she saw massive shapes, moving together in the distance. A low roar penetrated the night, and Helga released Salazar's hand. Now in the wand light she could see them. Trolls, their black eyes the only spot of darkness, their pale bodies naked and stained with blood. Some swung tree limbs, while others held rocks. One appeared to have a dead muggle woman draped over his shoulder like a sash, her eyes empty. With another low rumble they began their charge. The wizards and witches took up defensive positions, pairing off, two to each troll. While one would fling curses, another held a shield charm. The trolls moved gracelessly, falling to the spells more easily that Helga had expected. Still, with each falling troll, more came. Godric was at the lead now, his wand arm casting curses while the other whirled his sword about. It seemed that with each troll he fell, two more would come. He was surrounded, but still he held his own. His laugh was booming over the chaos, and the others seemed to take heart in his confidence. An older wizard fell at the feet of a troll, stunned, as his companion's shield dropped. Salazar rushed forward, casting a beam of blinding light from the tip of his wand. The troll reared back, howling. With a slash of his wand, the troll was dead and Salazar's wand fluttered over the older wizard. The man disappeared, now back inside the wards. Helga's ears perks as she heard a strange crunching sound to her left. A witch came running, blood streaming from a wound above her eye. Helga sent a shield charm over her, but the woman began to scream.

"THEY'RE COMING! PLEASE!" She shrieked. Helga realized her wound, now bleeding terribly, was oozing black.

Helga sprang forward, flying curses at the trolls blocking her path. They went limp, falling on their sides. She clambered over their bodies peering into the night. She was a strange rush of motion, and felt the hairs on her neck stand. Something enormous was moving in the blackness. Without speaking Helga sent a curse, only to watch as the red ball of light met glittering scales and bounced back. She dove to the side to avoid in and watched as the huge, reptilian beast turned to her. She fired another curse at the ground, and a ring of green flame circled the beast. A flash of silver streaked in front of her, and in a moment there was Salazar. She heard a strange, soft hissing coming from him. He was approaching the beast, his wand raised in a shield. The dragon roared and a stream of blue flame poured over Salazar. When the flames subsided, his shield was still holding, though she could see the charred earth at his feet.

The dragon stepped forward, hardly noticing the green flames licking it's claws. Helga gasped. The beast was close to Salazar now, again shooting flames. Unthinkingly, Helga took advantage of the dragon's distraction, skirting the dragon flames she came to the body of the beast and leapt over the sharp scales, running up the dragon's side.

"HELGA!" She heard Salazar cry out. His shield was beginning to give way. His hair was billowing about him, the ends burning in the heat. His face was red with concentration. "SHE WILL NOT SPEAK! HELGA! THE DRAGON CANNOT SPEAK! SHE IS NOT IN CONTROL!"

As Helga reached the dragon's shoulder she saw a flash of whiteness. She threw a curse and heard a thump behind her. Then a cold, white hand clasped over her throat.

"Drop the wand."


	8. Chapter 8

_Warning: this chapter contains violence and other nasty things. Read with caution!_

"HELGA!" Salazar's voice was strained, frightened. He could no longer see her.

"Drop your wand!" The vampire cried again. Helga felt his grip tighten over her throat. Her wand hand twitched. The dragon was heaving, but had stopped breathing fire at Salazar.

 _Salazar!_ She cried out in her mind, hoping he could hear. As the edges of her vision began to blur, Helga felt a surge of power run through her. The dragon beneath them game a strange, low groan. The vampire whirled her around, clutching her by her hair.

"You broke my connection!" He shrieked, "You've doomed us all, you idiot girl!".

Helga coughed and spluttered, fighting the breathe as the vampire pulled her hair back, revealing her throat.

 _Crucio_! The spell echoed in her mind, even as she struggled for breath. Her wand faithfully spun in her hand and the vampire fell back, shrieking and writhing in pain. Helga fell to her knees, her breath still ragged. As she fell she felt the dragon twitch beneath her, the first sign it felt her weight. The curse had lifted, and the vampire was now standing over her.

"You have just signed your death warrant, witch!" The Vampire spat. He dove for her wand hand and Helga could not move fast enough. Yet, when he had barely touched her he withdrew, howling in pain. As he did the dragon bucked, and Helga found herself on her belly, clinging desperately to the dragon's shoulders.

The Vampire, thrown from the bucking dragon and landed on his feet. "I do not need to touch you to kill you." He hissed. His voice was metallic, as though it had not been used in centuries.

A sickening sound like glass shattering rang through the air. The vampire looked down, and Helga saw black blood pooling in his chest. Salazar stood behind him, his face twisted with rage. He pushed the vampire to the side, and Helga bit back a scream as she watched his form crumble to dust. The vampire she had stunned lay, still unconscious at the dragon's feet. In a moment Salazar had dispatched her as well. It was only then, his hands clasped over a small silver dagger dripping with blood, that he looked up at Helga.

"Come down, please." He said softly. Helga did not move from her belly as the dragon began to buck again, unleashing a horrid shrill screeching. Seeing Salazar kill the two vampires so swiftly, Helga found herself frightened, unable to go to him.

"Helga..." Salazar's eyes were pleading now. _Please come down._ His voice rang in her mind. She swallowed, shifting her weight to her side as she prepared her descent. The creature moved, and she saw the enormous reptilian head turn to her. The dragon snorted, and heavy smoke poured from it's nostrils. It's great yellow eye blinked. For a moment, Helga was frozen, staring back at the dragon. She heard a light hissing noise from below, from Salazar, but found she could not look away from the dragon's eye. The dragon's pupil constricted, and she felt a strange tension beneath her.

"...Easy..." She whispered, running her hand softly over the dragon's scales.

"Helga! Get down! Now!" Salazar yelled.

It was too late. The dragon coiled like a cat, and in a moment Helga felt weightless. The dragon was flying.

She shrieked, "Salazar!" But she found she could not turn her head. The dragon was gaining altitude quickly. It was then she saw the others. Four more dragons hovered over the battle field, each mounted by two vampires.

 _HELGA!_ Salazar's voice rang in her mind. _Where are you?_

Her dragon charged forward, pinning it's wings to it's sides as it twirled. Helga felt a scream catch in her throat as the air was knocked from her lungs. The vampires were shrieking now, trying to steer their own dragon's from hers. Helga pulled herself slowly toward the dragon's neck.

 _There are other dragons, Sal! The vampires are controlling them somehow!_ She shouted back, grateful her connection with Salazar had not been broken by the distance.

 _I'm coming!_ Salazar's voice reached her again, fainter now. How could he come to her? She was on

"Why are you doing this?" She panted as she regained her breath. The dragon craned it's neck back toward her for a fraction of a second before it dove at the other dragons again, breathing it's blue flame. The flames licked the back of the dragon immediately in front of them and Helga heard a wrenching scream. The vampires were burning. Cries filled the cool air around them. The other dragon jerked a moment, falling to the earth. Then the second dragon, now free of the vampires' influence rose again, joining the attack.

Helga turned, tightening her knees over the dragon's neck as she shifted into a riding position. The dragon went into another rolling dive as the vampires began to change, their black cloaks spreading like wings as they took to the sky. Helga bonded herself to the dragon with a sticking charm.

"What have you gotten me into?" She whispered, and the dragon snorted audibly before pulling out of it's dive.

Helga twirled her wand at the coming vampires, firing off flames of her own. She struck one directly in the chest, only to see him shrug off the purple flames from her wand, laughing wildly.

"What kills vampires?" She whispered to herself. "Sunlight, the heart..." The dragon blew another ball of flame-as if trying to make a point- toward the flying vampires. "Dragon fire!"

A small orange flame danced at the tip of her wand, twisting into a horrible screaming flame. A vampire leapt on the tail of her dragon and she turned, firing fiendfyre at him. His face seemed to crack before crumbling apart. Helga shivered. She had never killed before.

She threw a bright beam of light, blinding another vampire as the remaining dragons, now free, began to awaken midair. One by one they dropped as the one before had, before pulling up and chasing their former riders. Two more vampires had fallen. Another leapt, it's black cloak spread and batlike, but Helga shot a beam as bright as sunlight and the vampire went limp, plummeting to the earth.

"HELGA!" She turned at the sound of Salazar's voice, though not in her mind this time. He was flying toward her astride a broom, followed closely by Tallus and two more wizards in dark ministry robes. A vampire flew at them, hissing horribly, and Tallus shot a green curse at him. He dodged away. A female vampire was on the back of another dragon her fangs elongated as she grappled to control the beast.

"DON'T HURT THE DRAGONS!" Helga cried. She did not see the others, but she saw their curses flying through the air.

Her dragon was was losing altitude, desperate to get away from the flying curses. Helga looked down. They appeared to be over the mountains now, in the darkness the only signs she saw that the battle with the trolls continued was the occasional bright spot of light as a curse was fired. She looked back up, finding herself face to face with another vampire. The vampire dove on top of her, hissing, and Helga heard a sickening snap as her leg, still charmed to the dragon, broke under the weight of the creature. Helga shrieked out in pain, attempting to force her wand toward the vampire, but he held her wrists over her head. The dragon went into another spin, and the vampire tightened it's grip on her as they flew upside down.

"Fool." He hissed. Helga met his eyes and found only black pools.

"Let go!" She shrieked. She attempted to throw the vampire off, but she still could not move her legs, and every movement seemed to send jolts of blinding pain up her spine. She felt tears streaming down her face, though she did not know whether they were from pain or fear. Above her she could see the four wizards as they threw curses at the remaining vampires. She could not tell which was Salazar, but she allowed her screams to fill her mind, hoping he would hear. The dragon had it's long neck turned, attempting to reach the vampire. She wondered why the dragon did not breathe flames at them, and let her die as well. The vampire over her was mere inches from her face now. He looked down and smiled before pressing more weight into her injured leg.

"Please..." she screamed, "It hurts!"

The vampire laughed. "Oh my child, you do not know pain. Not yet." He hissed. Helga shuddered, watching his dripping fangs. They were elongating in his mouth, pushing his lips into a horrid grin. He drew closer to her, his weight easing slightly from her wrists as he pulled her to him.

"RELASHIO!" She screamed, twitching her wand. Her legs were suddenly free of the charm and Helga was falling. The vampire still held her, but now his cloak seemed to be turning into long black wings. Helga felt herself fading into unconsciousness as the wind caused her broken leg to jerk haphazardly. They were lower now, close to the treetops. The vampire was flying haphazardly, and Helga saw her dragon circling toward them. The vampire looked down at her now, his black eyes wild. Helga felt her hand move as if possessed, and the vampire balked as Helga heard the familiar sound of glass shattering. The vampire was decaying, turning to dust before her eyes as they fell. Her hand was drenched in black blood.

Then she was on the ground, her body broken. She felt blood pooling at her head. In her hazy vision she could see the five dragons circling above her. She gripped her wand tighter, surprised she could still move her fingers. She could see the wizards now, hear Salazar's voice calling her name, though she did not know whether the sound was in her mind or his own voice. She felt her body lifting. Then she closed her eyes.

Salazar looked down at Helga, his face tight with worry. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and he breathed a sigh of relief. Rowena was there now, leaning over her too. "It would seem that the Hufflepuff blood means more than you realized." Salazar said quietly. Helga looked up, straining her neck.

"Be careful." Rowena warned. "You've been healing for days."

Helga blinked again, and as the walls around her came into focus she saw the familiar worn stone of Hogwarts. She was in her own rooms.

"What happened?" She whispered. "H-how did we get back here?" A woman she did not know with ginger hair piled atop her head was there now, thrusting a foul smelling green potion toward her.

"Drink." She said sternly. Helga obediently gulped, shuddering as the slimy concoction oozed down her throat.

"You fell." Salazar said simply, peering into her face. "We didn't know where you were, but then the dragons dove..." Helga was suddenly aware he was clasping her hand. She did not pull away.

"They stayed beside you." Salazar whispered. "You were badly injured, but we were able to stop the bleeding. Rowena healed your bones, but Mrs. Prewett has been working with you for much of a week. She came from Saint Mungos to heal you."

Helga's eyes flicked back to the red haired witch who was busying herself in the corner. Suddenly Helga jolted upright and was rewarded with an aching pain in her side.

"Where is Godric?" She cried. "The trolls! Where-."

Rowena smoothed Helga's hair back, "Godric is well. The ministry arrived shortly after you disappeared. He is helping them search the mountains." She smiled, "He will be furious you woke up without him here. He was certain you would sleep another day, at least."

Mrs. Prewett handed Helga another green potion, still steaming. "Drink up!" She said brightly.

"What is it?" Helga asked, downing the potion in a single gulp. It was horrid going down, but she felt more awake for it.

"Blood replenishing potion." Mrs. Prewett said, taking the goblet away once again. "You won't touch the stuff in your sleep. Had to have Lord Slytherin hold you down to get it in you." She winked at Salazar and Helga blushed deeply. "You'll need three goblets of it every day for another week. That leg of yours was nasty business. Broken four places! Didn't know a little thing like you could bleed so much."

"Anne." Rowena said warningly. Mrs. Prewett shrugged and bustled from the room. Rowena looked to Helga and Salazar, her brow furrowed.

"I suppose I should be getting back to Tallus." She said, eyeing Salazar meaningfully before turning back to Helga. "He's helping me organize my house commons. Poor man, he just wants to be left alone with his books." With that, she too swept from the room, closing the door softly. Helga looked up at Salazar, who still held her hand.

"...Sal." She said softly.

Then her body was jerked forward and he was holding her tightly. Her side ached and her head spun a little at the sudden movement, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'm so sorry, Helga." He whispered into her hair.

She laughed softly, pulling back and leaning into the pillows. "I should be thanking you Salazar. You saved my life." She smiled, "More than once."

He was staring at her, his eyes dark. "I promised you I would let no harm come to you." He said simply. Helga reached out and ran a finger down his cheek. He closed his eyes, but did not turn away.

"You didn't, Salazar. I dove into it, full force." She sank deeper into the bed. "I am still amazed the dragons didn't kill me."

He shook his head, "They told me that you were a friend to them. Your blood sang of the old country." He whispered.

Helga cocked her head, "You could speak to them." She said quietly. Salazar nodded, and seeing the look of pain cross his features she didn't press him. Instead she stifled a yawn.

"I should let you sleep." Salazar said, noticing her weariness. He stood to go, but she grabbed his wrist faster than he would have thought possible.

"Salazar," She looked away, ashamed. "Why are you being so kind to me? Why did you protect me back there?"

She heard him sigh and looked up. His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath before answering.

"Godric has always been so bull-headed. He wanted Hogwarts, perhaps more than any of us. Rowena is brilliant, of course. And I suppose I wanted to prove myself. To change the world in my way," He blushed. "When Godric said he wanted to bring you here, we were wary. What could you have that we didn't? We had riches, brains, drive, strength...what could you add to us? To Hogwarts?" He looked down. Helga felt tears pricking her eyes. She had wondered herself too, why did they need her, but Salazar pressed on. "You threw yourself into Hogwarts body and soul, Helga. You weren't afraid of toil, of the day-to-day drudgery. You came here and proved yourself worthy every single day." He leaned forward, cupping Helga's cheek. "But more than that. Before you came here Hogwarts was empty. It had no warmth, nothing but empty halls and unread books and clashing egos. You brought something more here, Helga. I cannot let that die."

He kissed her chastely on her forehead, and Helga felt a strange warmth spreading through her, as though she had just eaten an entire bar of chocolate. Without another word Salazar had left. Helga burrowed deep into her blankets. It seemed, in the quiet after Salazar left, that she was very aware of her own heartbeat, faster than she had ever heard it before.

 _~~~Woo! Hey everyone! This chapter was perhaps my most difficult to write yet (writing action scenes in which you have like 5 dragons all called "dragon" is pretty frustrating). I'm sorry if Salazar's Parseltongue shouldn't translate to being able to speak with dragons (I know Harry couldn't) but it just seemed to fit. Also sorry if I offended any vampire lovers. The only vampires JKR talks about are pretty dark creatures (and blood-hungry) so I went with that._

 _I'd love to hear more from you all about what you are hoping for in this story. I'm taking it pretty slowly, but don't worry. In the next chapter Hogwarts will be opening its doors!_


	9. Chapter 9

Helga stood at the entryway, watching the crates being unloaded. Tallus had gone to Greece, as originally planned, and returned with seven carriages, full to the brim with manuscripts and tomes. As the house elves unloaded the goods, Rowen greeted Tallus at the gates, and now they turned as the final carriage door opened. An olive-skinned woman, her hair dark and wrapped in a simple black cloth emerged, carrying a small parcel. The woman inclined her head formally toward Rowena, and Helga half-considered going back to her common room, as Salazar had.

In the past days the castle had been awash with activity. Philomena Filch had arrived along with Hector Helmstead to prepare for their positions in History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. While Hector had taken up residence in the teachers quarters adjoining his office, Philomena and her husband Burgess, as well as their two young sons, had moved into a small cottage just outside the school grounds near Mrs. Prewett and her family. Helga delighted in Burgess Filch's company, as he, like her, had grown up simply with no substantial wealth and seemed overwhelmed by the splendor of Hogwarts. Hector, on the other hand, was aloof toward all but Salazar, who he treated with a strange reverence. He had brought with him several crates, all of which made horrid sounds. Helga had directed him to deposit them in the dungeons with some relief.

Tallus and Rowena gestured toward her, and the newcomer turned her head slightly. Helga sighed. It seemed that her time to escape without introductions had passed. She made her toward them slowly, overhearing the snippets of their conversation.

"-And of course they will all be protected here." Tallus finished with a sweeping motion of his arm. "Ah! Helga!" He beamed. "I'm glad to see you are well. You are quite well now aren't you?" He asked the last question with great concern, and Helga remembered that he, like Salazar had been in the air to watch her fall.

"Quite well." She smiled.

"You were injured." The newcomer spoke with a strange, rolling accent, as if trying to turn each word over with her tongue. Helga looked at her closely now. She was dressed simply, though her robes seemed worn with travel. Her eyes, when they turned toward Helga, had a strange milky color, and as they slid to either side of her Helga noted with surprise that the woman was blind.

"...Yes." Helga said. "In a battle in Romania."

The woman tilted her head for a moment, considering, "The dragon rider." She said softly. Helga felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

"Cassandra is a seer." Rowena said in response to Helga's confusion. "Tallus brought her from Greece to teach Divination."

Cassandra clicked her tongue lightly, "A fool's errand, I fear. One is either born with the gift or without."

"Quite." Rowena said tartly. "Tallus, could you take Cassandra to her rooms, please? Helga and I will see to the rest of your trophies." Helga couldn't help but feel the malice in Rowena's voice. Cassandra, it seemed, was not a welcome addition to the staff.

Tallus looked nervous for a moment, feeling Rowena's displeasure before her gestured toward the castle and led Cassandra away. As Helga turned back to Rowena she heard a distant shouting coming from the direction of the forest.

"Other guests?" Helga asked, gesturing toward to woods.

"Centaurs. It seems Cassandra would not agree to come unless we gave them sanctuary. They are a small herd, but they will have their uses, I suppose."

Helga blinked, "But aren't they terribly dangerous? I mean, I have never met one..."

Rowena snorted, "They keep to themselves mostly. These forests have always been magical. It is one reason we chose this location. They will be well-isolated from outsiders. Besides," she said, "They usually only attack when provoked."

Helga nodded, turning back to the carriages, nearly empty now as the house elves apparated in, collected, and apparated back to the castle.

"I must ask you to be honest with me, Helga."

Helga looked, her brow arched. Rowena's face was stony. Helga had noticed a shift in her mood since their return from the battle, though she had assumed it had something to do with the shock. She herself had been having nightmares. Perhaps, she thought, it was Rowena's pregnancy. Or the fact that Tallus had gone away again so soon, only to come back with this unwelcome new professor. She nodded, and Rowena took a deep breath before speaking again.

"What happened to you and Salazar? In the battle?"

"Happened? Nothing. Well...I mean, he killed a vampire who was attacking me. Then the dragon..."

"Not that."

Rowena looked strained now, as if she were mustering the strength to speak.

"Helga, you were very brave, we all know that. You are inclined to see the goodness in others. But there are things you don't know about Salazar. Sides of him...that you should be wary of." She made a point of not looking Helga in the eye as she spoke. "He traveled you know, after his parents died. He has certain _ideas_ about the way Hogwarts should be run." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Godric won't listen to me. Salazar fought beside him for two years. They're like brothers. Bickering, bull-headed brothers, but brothers just the same."

"What did he do?" Helga asked, alarmed.

"He hunted them." Rowena said, her voice still a deadly whisper. "The muggles who killed his family. His entire town was practically burnt to the ground. The Ministry claimed it was an accident, of course, that some plague had swept through and the bodies needed to be burnt to prevent infection."

Helga felt her stomach lurch. Strange pangs of despair and anger, mixed with something she could not name.

"H-he was so young though. He couldn't control his magic...I mean, surely..."

"Helga, stop." Rowena had turned, finally looking the other witch in the eye. She looked on the verge of tears. "I am trying to _help_ you. You're my friend and you deserve to know this before...before you form any attachments."

Helga nodded, feeling her face grow hot. She felt gutted.

"I think I should go back to the castle." She whispered quietly. Rowena nodded and allowed Helga to turn and leave without another word.

As she made her way inside Helga found herself walking toward Salazar's common room. As she came to the dungeons she quieted when she heard voices.

"...My Lord, surely another..."

"You will procure what I am asking for, Hector." Salazar said sharply. Helga drew back to the stone wall and quieted her breathing. The two wizards seemed to be arguing quietly just outside of the Slytherin common room.

"Of course sir, but you must understand...the creature is dangerous."

"Not to me."

"Yes, yes, but surely you don't mean for the beast to reside here?"

"I have created a place for it. It will be perfectly safe."

"...What have the others said of this?" Hector Helmstead's voice was strained, nervous.

"They need not know. This is for the defense of Hogwarts. They will thank me, should the dire time ever come. Should the muggles discover us." Salazar's voice was quiet and dangerous in a way Helga had never heard before. She found herself fighting the urge to run back up the way she came.

"Leave me." Salazar's voice was sharp. Helga tried to move out of view but did not make it before Hector came around the corner. He paused when he saw her before rushing past, his head down.

"Helga?"

She stiffened, turning now to the foot of the stairs. Salazar was there, looking curious.

"H-hello. I was just...um...looking for you." She said softly.

He stared at her as he moved toward her up the steps, their eyes locked. When he was close she shivered lightly, and resisted the urge to step back.

"What are you planning, Sal?" She asked, her voice coming out a whisper.

His eyes flashed. "I am keeping Hogwarts safe. My own way." He said curtly.

"How?"

He was towering over her now, his face grim. "How? Do you ask Godric what defenses he casts on the castle? Ask Rowena what beasts that husband of her has hidden in the forest?"

"Sal..."

"No Helga!" He said. "Hogwarts is my home! I will not see it burned by...by them!" He hissed.

Helga felt her eyes watering over. "Then it's true?" She choked. "Those muggles from your village...you killed them?"

He took a step back as though struck, before regaining his composure. He seemed angrier than Helga had known possible, once again the dark man from her first weeks in the castle. "I am not a forgiving man." He spat. "Besides, did Godric not try to do the same to the ones who killed your mother? Did you not kill that vampire? Perhaps you aren't as saintly as you like to believe."

Helga took a step back now, fighting her tears. "I had no choice, Sal."

"It was you or him, Helga! How is it different? How is it different from them?" He lowered his voice. "If the muggles had the chance they would wipe out our kind in a moment. Do not pretend otherwise."

Helga shook her head, feeling Salazar move closer. He took her chin and tilted it up until she was looking at him.

"It's us or them, Helga. I won't let them take this away from us. This is my home now." His face softened into the man she knew again, and she saw pain in his eyes. "You, all of you, are my family. I won't let them take that away from me again."

Helga stood, staring into his eyes. "But Salazar...we're safe now. You're safe." She whispered. "They aren't going to take that away from us."

"I promised you before that I would protect you." Salazar sighed.

"You did."

"There are still greater evils, Helga. Even here."

She swallowed hard. "Do you promise me...promise that you won't hurt anyone, Sal. Not unless absolutely necessary."

He looked at her for a long, pained moment. "I promise."

He craned his head down, closer to her face.

"Salazar..." She whispered.

"Stop it." He ordered. "Stop thinking for a moment." Then he moved his hands to her back.

When he kissed her this time she let herself go. Pushing thoughts of Hector and his task, of Rowena's worry from her mind. She twined her arms around his neck and felt him pull her insistently into him. He pulled back after a moment, leaning his forehead against hers and breathing softly.

"I promise." He whispered again.

...

 _Hi Everyone!_

 _Sorry this update has been a little slower than usual. I've been horribly busy in a far less magical world. I also realized I had been rushing a bit and been a bit lax on proofreading, so sorry for the typos! Don't worry though, I'm picking up the pace again. Hopefully my next update will be today or tomorrow. Next: We will get a little glimpse into the futures of our characters and get to know everyone a bit better._


	10. Chapter 10

"This is idiotic."

Rowena glared angrily into the smoke as Cassandra swayed, humming. She was seated on the floor in front of the billowing hearth. At Rowena's voice she turned her nose up slightly, humming louder.

"Come, come, Rowena." Godric laughed. He had returned the day before, slightly before dinner, weary but pleased with himself. His beard was slightly longer after two weeks in Romania. "What good is having a seer if we cannot have a little fun?"

"What good is having a seer at all?" Rowena muttered. Helga giggled slightly. Rowena's distaste for Cassandra had only grown since her arrival. Helga had seen very little of the seer, except at mealtimes. Even then, the woman merely sat, picking at her food disdainfully. It seemed Helga's recipes did not live up to her standards.

They had all gathered for the evening in Cassandra's chambers for a reading, at Godric's request. The seer had set about throwing dried herbs into her fire, and the room was now stifling, filled with strange, sweet-smelling smoke.

"Rowena, if you're tired we can-." Tallus began.

" _SILENCE."_ Cassandra's voice rang out, strangely deep and harsh. Everyone went quiet. Mrs. Prewett eyed the seer nervously, picking at her sleeve. Burgess and Philomena Filch both were staring at the Seer with reverence. Hector looked bored, as did Salazar. Helga merely shrugged and tried not to breathe through her nose. The smoke was making her feel dizzy and stupid.

" _GODRIC GRYFFINDOR,"_ Cassandra bellowed, and Godric jumped slightly before leaning forward, his eyes alight with interest. " _YOU HAVE SHOWN COURAGE, WARRIOR. BUT I FEAR YOUR BLADE STILL HAS MANY BATTLES. SOME SHALL BE WON, SOME SHALL NOT. BE WARY OF THE SILVER TONGUE. CARRY YOUR SHIELD WITH HONOR. IT WILL NOT LEAD YOU ASTRAY."_

Godric smirked, nudging Rowena. "Well that isn't so terrible, eh?"

" _FILCH FAMILY."_ The seer began again, as though she had not heard Godric. " _WATCH CAREFULLY YOUR SONS. ONE SHALL GROW TOWARD THE LIGHT. THE OTHER TOWARD THE DARKNESS. BE WARY OF THE EYES, MY CHILDREN. THEY WATCH."_

Philomena and Burgess both went white, looking nervously at each other. Rowena sighed.

 _"ROWENA RAVENCLAW. YOUR BLOOD WILL BRING YOU GREAT SORROW. GREED IS THE GREATEST OF ALL EVILS."_ The seer continued without breaking stride, " _SALAZAR SLYTHERIN, YOUR QUEST IS FOR NAUGHT. THE LAST OF YOUR LINE BRINGS ONLY DEATH. HE WILL DESTROY ALL YOU HOLD DEAR._ "

Helga looked up to meet Salazar's eye, but found him staring into the fire. Instead she met those of Hector, who looked at her scornfully.

 _"ANNE PREWETT,"_ The plump nurse jumped, shaking horribly. _"GUARD WELL ALL WHO COME INTO YOUR CARE. HEED NOT WANING MOON, FOR IT SHALL BE FULL AGAIN IN TIME."_

 _"HECTOR HELMSTEAD. YOU SHALL LOSE THAT WHICH IS MOST PRECIOUS. BEWARE THE SNARE."_

The wizard rolled his eyes, preparing to stand and leave.

 _"HELGA HUFFLEPUFF,"_ Helga turned to the seer. _"BEFORE YOU EACH OF YOUR FELLOWS SHALL FALL. CHOOSE YOUR PATH WISELY. WHEN THE MIGHTY ARE GONE ONLY THE TRUE REMAIN."_ With that Cassandra fell, her eyes rolled back.

"Wait...what about me?" Tallus asked. Cassandra was panting, regaining her composure. She looked straight ahead with her blank eyes.

"I see nothing, Tallus Ravenclaw." She said slowly, "Only darkness."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Suddenly Godric laughed his strange booming laugh.

"Only doom and gloom, eh, Cass?" He asked lightly. The woman turned up her nose again.

"The spirits reveal what they wish." She said tersely.

"Hogwash." Rowena said, standing awkwardly. Tallus sprang to her side. "Utter nonsense, all of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some actual spells to attend to." With that she swept from the room. Tallus glanced apologetically at everyone before following her. Salazar stood, going to the door, and Hector followed at his heels.

"Thank you Cassandra," Helga said, looking about at the others, "That was...err...interesting."

"Think nothing of it." The seer said sagely. She turned her attention back to the Filches who were anxiously questioning her about her prediction. Helga stood, stretching, making up her mind to go and rescue Tallus from Rowena's moods. It seemed as the witch's belly grew ever larger her temper grew shorter. She murmured her farewells to the others, and as she passed the door she felt a cool whisper in her ear.

"Meet me on the seventh floor. Midnight." Salazar whispered. Helga nodded and hid a blush but did not look at him. She strode to tapestry down the hall, looking about a moment before ducking behind it. She had created a small secret passageway to the kitchens. Once there she brewed two cups of strong tea.

In the Ravenclaw common room, Rowena was brooding. Helga placed the tea in front of her with a smile. Tallus was nowhere in sight.

"He's gone to the library." Rowena said stiffly, as Helga looked about.

"Well I certainly hope the lights don't go out on him. After all," Helga imitated the seer's voice. "NOTHING BUT DARKNESSSS!"

Rowena laughed bitterly, picking up the tea. "Of course she says that, she's blind."

"Rowena!" Helga looked at her friend sternly, but Rowena only shrugged.

"Crazy. Absolutely crazy." Rowena muttered. She took a light sip of tea and blanched.

"It's hot!" She said, sounding affronted.

"Of course it's hot, it's tea." Helga sniffed, taking a drink of her own. The two witches sat in silence a moment, staring at the sky out the Ravenclaw tower windows. Rowena seemed slightly more relaxed now.

"How is Salazar?" She asked conversationally after a moment. Helga continued to look out the window, feigning disinterest.

"You would know as well as I, I suppose."

"Oh hush Helga." Rowena snapped. "What I mean is, have you thought of what I told you."

Helga took a deep breath. She and Rowena had steered safely clear of the topic of Salazar since that day by the carriages.

"Rowena...I'd like to ask you a favor." Helga began cautiously.

"Yes?"

"Leave it be. Forget what you told me about Salazar. Forget you ever heard it."

Rowena turned, eyeing Helga.

"So I was too late?" Rowena asked.

Helga shook her head. "That's not it." She muttered. "You trust me, don't you?"

"In most things." Rowena said.

"Then please. Don't hold on to your suspicions. They aren't good for anyone, or for Hogwarts." Helga turned now, looking the other woman full in the face.

Rowena looked for a moment like she was about to argue, then she merely nodded, bowing her head.

"I suppose you're right." The two turned back to the fire, their silence slightly more strained.

"Do you ever wonder about them?" Rowena asked. Helga looked up. The witch was staring up at her starry ceiling.

"Who?"

"Your family."

Helga stiffened. Rowena knew not to ask about her mother. The subject was too painful.

"I have been doing some reading..." Rowena continued slowly, "Research I suppose. About your father's family. The Hufflepuffs."

Helga relaxed slightly, but only slightly.

"My father died when I was a child."

"How?" Rowena asked.

Helga sighed. "I don't really know. I remember him of course, but I was so young. I remember he was a short man," She laughed slightly, gesturing to her own tiny frame, "Surprisingly. With a great golden beard. He looked like a barbarian, mama used to say. He used to go away for long periods. Weeks sometimes. Once he didn't come back. I remember I came into the house and my mother-" She choked, "my mother was crying. She told me he was gone."

Rowena nodded, distracted.

"I never met his family." Helga said.

Rowena took a deep breath. "Helga, what if I told you what I found? About your family?"

Helga shrugged, "I suppose. Though if this is a lesson in genealogy I fear I am woefully unprepared."

"What if I told you that he is alive?"

Helga coughed into her tea, the color draining from her face. "My father?"

Rowena nodded. "I was reading about the expulsion of dragons from Britain," She said softly. "And I came across a name. Eurig Hufflepuff. The ministry took a census of the members of the dragon clans. His name was among them."

Helga shook her head, "Eurig must have been a family name. I'm sure I have a cousin..."

"Helga."

Helga looked away, avoiding Rowena's stare. Her father, who used to tell her strange tales until her mother shooed her off to bed. Her father who used to come home smelling of sulfer and wheatgrass. Her father who had sang horribly to her when they went walking in the forest, or picked herbs in the garden.

"He wouldn't have abandoned us." Helga said softly, trying to convince herself. She had been so young, she had known so little of him, but she had trusted him.

"If he is alive, Helga, would you like to know?" Rowena asked.

Helga paused. She couldn't shake the strange feelings washing over her. If he had abandoned them he must have had a reason. A good reason.

"Yes." She said softly.

Helga made her way along the seventh floor corridor. The torches cast a low, impatient light over the stone, and she found herself tiptoeing. She did not see Salazar, though it was nearly midnight. She came to a split in the corridor, leading to a dead end. Suddenly a cold hand clamped over her mouth. She let out a little squeak of fear, drawing her wand.

Salazar stood, his hands raised in surrender, laughing breathily.

"You were about one second away from being a lizard, Sal." Helga hissed harshly. He laughed again, taking her hand and pulling her toward the dead end.

"My apologies," He whispered, "Come, I have a surprise for you."

He led her to the end of the corridor then turned her, facing the wall. She stared at it blankly.

"Oh goodness. A wall. I am alight with excitement." She quipped, still irritated.

He shook his head. "Hush, close your eyes."

Helga turned, eyeing him wearily. He nodded to her and she went dutifully back to the wall. She closed her eyes tightly.

"Now imagine the most perfect place in the world. Just think of it. Go to that place in your mind." He whispered. Helga felt his hand tightened around her and she thought. The trees. The familiar smells of lavender and heather...

"Perfect! Open your eyes." Salazar said, sounding pleased.

Helga opened her eyes, finding the blank wall now held a door.

"Well go ahead, open it." He said, gesturing toward the suddenly, very solid door. Helga placed a wary hand on the knob, afraid it would disappear. Then she pushed the door open.

It was just as she remembered.

The sunlight shining through the window was dappled green by the trees. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, while a fire glowed in the hearth. The low sleeping pallet was in the corner. The dirt floors covered in fresh hay. She turned, looking at Salazar beside her. She listened and heard the wind rustling through the tiny metal chimes in the garden.

"How?" She asked quietly.

He smiled, looking around.

"So this is your home?"

She walked about the small cottage, running her fingers over everything. Feeling their familiarity. The cauldron even had the same dents.

"It was." She whispered. "I haven't seen it since...since that night." She went to the palette, pulling it aside and pointing her wand at the ground. The outline of a trap door appeared.

"This is where I hid." She muttered softly to herself. She stared blankly.

Salazar came up behind her. "I'm sorry, it was a silly idea. I've upset you." He looked forlorn. Helga turned to him, shaking her head.

"No, no, it's wonderful. There are just...I never thought I would see it again." She said. "How did you do this?"

Salazar led her back through the door, and she glanced back into the familiar little cottage. They stood a moment, then when Salazar opened the door again the room was richly hung with tapestries and adorned with beautifully patterned rugs. Pillows and lounging couches leaned invitingly against the walls. The air was thick with jasmine and incense.

"This is the Room of Requirement." Salazar said, pulling her beside him on one of the large, comfortable couches. "I wanted to make a place that you would always be safe. A place that could be whatever you want. Whatever you need at that moment."

She laughed, gasping as a heavy warm breeze blew through the window. "And what is this place?"

"This is the home of my tutor in Baghdad. The room where I learnt in the far East." Salazar said softly, twirling a finger around one of her honey curls, "The East, despite what you may think, is a wonderful place. It blooms with magic."

Helga turned to him, seeing his eyes unfocus as he remembered.

"And now you take me here?" She asked, laughing.

"Someday I will take you here." He said, returning his attention to her. He kissed her head softly and she blushed. Since their time in the dungeon stairwell, they had only a few stolen moments. Around the others, he was aloof, but out in the greenhouses, or walking in the Forbidden Forest, or sitting in the open astronomy tower, he seemed at ease. He had kissed her again, twice, in that time. Mostly, however, he told her of his travels, of his parents before they had died, of the battles he had seen beside Godric. She in turn had told him about her mother, about the first spell she ever cast, about how she used to practice her magic quietly in the little cottage Godric had helped her make her home.

"Salazar?" She said softly, and he turned to her. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" He asked, his brows furrowed at the sudden change in her tone.

"Rowena told me something tonight. She has been reading..."

"Of course."

Helga took a deep breath, "She thinks she found my father." Salazar stiffened. "He is alive."

"Where?" He breathed, looking down at his hands. Helga could feel the tension building in his shoulders.

"In Wales."

Salazar looked troubled, "And will you go to him? After all this time?"

She nodded, but realizing he was not looking at her she spoke. "Yes."

"He left you." Salazar said it simply, but it stung her as it had the first moment she had thought it. She rose from the couch and began pacing the rugs.

"I know."

She could see Salazar battling emotion in his face. Eventually his eyes turned up to her.

"Come here." He said, raising his arms. She took a hesitant step toward him and he pulled her down, kissing her fiercely. She inhaled sharply before sinking into him. He pulled away and buried his face in her curls.

"Can you forgive him?

"He's my father." She said quietly into his shoulder. He was still a long moment, and Helga listened to his heartbeat. It was sturdy, slow. He smelled like clean moss and copper.

"What if I cannot forgive him?" He asked. His voice had a dangerous edge now. Helga shrugged against him.

"You don't have to."

He pulled her up to face him, cradling her face in his hands. She felt strangely small, like a child. His eyes bore into her, as though he were trying to understand.

"You already have forgiven him." He said, as though he knew it from looking at her mind. Perhaps he did. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Oh Helga, what makes you the way you are?"

"I suppose you think I am a sentimental idiot?" She asked, laughing lightly. He looked at her, deadly serious.

"No."

"What then?" she laughed, trying to break the sudden tension. The smell of him was making her tired.

"I think you're absolutely wonderful." He said, and she peered at him. He took her in, her messy yellow hair, her hazel eyes, her tiny, serious face. He traced her jawline lightly, as though he had never seen a creature quite like her.

"But a fool." He laughed softly, "A lovely, wonderful little fool." She scrunched her nose at him and he laughed again.

"I suppose I am."

"I'm going with you, you know." He said. "To meet him."

"No." She shook her head. "Absolutely not. I don't trust you. Not one bit."

"Helga," He looked at her sternly.

She shook her head. He stood now, picking her up. She shrieked, then looked around guiltily.

"No one can hear you, my Lady." He said, raising her higher from the ground.

She twitched her wand and he released her, making her topple onto her backside.

"I am certainly not a lady, my Lord." She said, looking up at him with a wink.

He stooped, eye level with her. "You most certainly are not. What would my mother think, to see me carrying on with a peasant girl?" He chuckled.

She kicked at him. "She would tell you it's all very improper and marry you off to the first noble she could lay sight on."

He caught her foot gently. "And what if I told her that I was in love with the peasant girl?"

"She would Obliviate every memory of me." Helga said, laughing again. Salazar looked at her, very seriously. She stared back at him. "What?"

He sighed. "I said, what if I told her I was in love with you, Helga."

Helga sat for a moment, starting back at him before her mouth formed into a silent "O". She tried to clear her throat, but found she could not speak. Salazar leaned into her again.

"And that is why I am going with you, you little fool."


	11. Chapter 11

The house was long and narrow, far larger than Helga had imagined. She stood, staring at it for a long while, with Salazar and Godric talking quietly behind her. Rowena had told Godric of her discovery before she even told Helga, it seemed, and he, like Salazar, had insisted on accompanying her. Now they stood at the low stone wall, looking down the hill at the large home. Helga began to wish, not for the first time, that she had come alone so she could turn back without shame.

Salazar stood a ways behind her, watching her as she looked down over the hill. She looked, he thought, like a painting, with her hair twisted back in braids and her long traveling cloak. The scrubby grasses around her was the same color as her, fresh yellow.

She turned back to the two men.

"I'm going in alone." She said decidedly. Godric moved to protest, but Salazar put up a finger to silence him.

"She's right." He said.

Godric shook his head, "You don't know what you'll find in there, Helga." He said forcefully. "He left his family. Lord knows why. We should come to protect you."

She looked pleadingly back at Salazar, who moved a hand to Godric's shoulder.

"I have my wand." She said softly. "If I need you, I'll call." With that she turned, making her way down the hill, leaving the two wizards staring after her. At the door she paused, but it swung open before she had a chance to collect herself.

A small, fierce looking blonde woman, perhaps twice Helga's age stood in the doorway, holding tight to a heavy walking stick.

"What do you want?" She asked harshly. Helga winced slightly. The woman was her equal in height, but far more broad shouldered and sturdy. Helga noted that she did not carry a wand.

"I'm here to see Eurig Hufflepuff." She said softly.

"Why? What do you want with him?"

Helga looked at the woman's eyes. They were cornflower blue, like her father's had been. They held no malice, only warning.

"I-I'm his daughter." She said lamely.

The woman's eyes widened. She opened the door slightly, stepping out to stand face to face with the younger witch.

"Helga?" She asked, her voice was wary now, perhaps even frightened.

Helga nodded. The woman looked her up and down.

"Oh my." She said, her brow furrowed, "We thought you would come, ah but that was years ago." She looked accusingly at Helga, "Where have you been the last twelve years, eh? Where's that damned mother of yours?" She raised her hand suddenly and slapped Helga scoldingly on the cheek.

Suddenly they were beside her.

"Don't touch her!" Salazar hissed. The woman took a step back from the two newcomers. Both were considerably taller than her.

"And who are these?" She asked Helga accusingly, "Your guards, eh?"

Helga looked back, eyeing both Godric and Salazar, who slowly lowered their wands.

"No, they are my friends." She peered at the woman. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

The woman looked offended, and Helga stepped back in case she tried to slap her again. "I'm your Aunt Mairwen. Your father's sister. Of course your mother never told you. Too high and mighty I suppose."

Helga's eyes flashed. "My mother died over six years ago, Aunt Mairwen."

The woman blanched.

"Where is my father?"

Aunt Mairwen stared at Helga a long moment before looking back and forth between Salazar and Godric. She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging.

"I suppose the best way to tell you is to show you." She turned back through the open door, thumping along on her walking stick. "Come on in, the lot of you."

Helga looked back and Godric nodded to her with an encouraging smile. She took a breath and stepped inside.

Every piece of furniture appeared to be carved with dragon imagery. A tapestry on the wall was hung with an image of a badger facing a dragon, with a script in gold above the image reading "Melium Amicus Montis". As the three newcomers entered, five large hounds rushed forward, sniffing at their feet. They jumped happily about Godric while Salazar stood stiffly, wand still at his side, by Helga's shoulder. They followed Helga's Aunt through the long room. Several other stocky, blonde heads of all sorts turned and looked at the new arrivals as they entered. Some of them looked questioningly at Mairwen, while others merely shook their heads at Godric and Salazar in their silken robes.

"What is it, Mairwen?" One of the older men asked, Helga noted that he had a long, bushy beard. "More trouble from the Ministry?"

"Hold your tongue, Uncle Irwyn, this is my niece you're talking about." Aunt Mairwen said harshly. The man looked at Helga as though he had seen a ghost then quickly turned back to the others at the long table, whispering under his breath.

Mairwen stopped about just shy of the end of the long table, gesturing toward a figure seated at a small lonely chair in the corner. The figure looked small, wrapped in a rough, brown blanket, with his head and face covered by a low hood.

"Go ahead, child." Mairwen said. "Go to him."

Helga looked at her Aunt uncertainly, then back over her shoulder. Godric and Salazar were picking their way carefully through the room behind her, whispering low to each other. She had little doubt Godric was strategizing an escape. She turned, going to the figure. She crouched before it, noticing how small and thin the hands looked.

"Papa?" She asked. The figure didn't move. She looked back at Mairwen, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. Her Aunt merely stared back at her and nodded her head.

"Papa?" Helga asked again softly. "It's me, Helga." She reached out and touched the exposed hand, pulling back when she felt it's coldness. Shaking, she reached up and pulled back the hood, looking into the empty, cornflower blue eyes.

His beard had grown gray in the passing years, and his thick hair was all streaked with white. His cheeks were sallow, sunken, and he looked malnourished. But the eyes. Her father's eyes were completely blank, seeing, but not truly seeing. It was only when he blinked at the sudden light and took a deep breath that she realized he was not a corpse.

"Papa?" Helga's voice sounded small, childlike, even to her. She reached up and touched his face. It did not change.

She felt a small, warm hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Aunt Mairwen.

"He can't hear you, child. The Dementors got him." The older woman said softly. "Gave him the kiss. Twelve years ago now. Ministry brought him home like this." Helga felt herself collapse and the older woman was holding her, rocking her softly.

"Hush, child, hush. He's not in there now. He's gone. That man there, he's not your papa, not my brother. He may look like him, but it isn't him."

Helga let out a wail like a scream, burying her face deeper into the woman. She could feel the other's watching her, she could feel their pity, but she didn't care. She sobbed deeply, until she felt she could breathe again.

"I came here just to lose him again." She whispered, "I came here for nothing."

Aunt Mairwen tutted in her ear. "And I suppose I'm nothing, eh? You're back, my dear, you're home. You have a whole family just waiting to meet you."

Helga pulled back, sitting on her heals. Her face was burning from crying. She saw now that Godric was crouched beside her, his hand lightly rubbing her back. Salazar stood, staring daggers at Aunt Mairwen.

Helga looked back to Mairwen, who was peering at her niece worriedly.

"How did they get him? W-what happened?" She asked haltingly.

Mairwen sighed. "Come and sit down, have a drink. We all need one." She said briskly. Godric softly pulled Helga to her feet and Mairwen raised the hood again over the husk that once was Eurig Hufflepuff. Salazar glared at Godric for a moment as he lead Helga to her seat, before sitting lightly at her other side. Beneath the table, he took her hand and squeezed.

At Mairwen's behest, one of the men brought several mugs to them, filled with a warm, earthy-smelling liquid. Helga took the proffered mug and downed it in one go. Mairwen almost smiled. Godric and Salazar both eyed their mugs suspiciously before Godric took a hearty swig. Mairwen took a deep breath, meeting Helga's eyes, looking apologetic.

"I suppose I should have warned you." She said. Helga stared down at the table, feeling Salazar tense beside her.

"You should have." He hissed at her Aunt. The woman glared back at him. Helga rubbed over his knuckles lightly beneath the table with her thumb.

"Please, Aunt Mairwen," She said softly. "What happened to my father?" Mairwen nodded, crossing her arms on the table in front of her.

"You must have known your father, all of us, are friends to the dragons." Mairwen began. "Before our time, when the muggles first arrived, our family made peace with the dragons. Those were dangerous times in these lands. As the muggles came for the fertile soil, we were forced to dig tunnels into the mountains, protect the dragons, but the muggles pushed ever further. Your father took up his duties as a protector of the dragons. Kept them safe from the muggles, deep in the mountains. When he met your mother, well, she was not of our kind. A different sort of witch I suppose. She and your father came back here to get married, but when she found out about you, well, she didn't want you growing up in danger. I can't fault her that, you're a little wisp of a thing." She eyed Helga up and down again.

"That's from her side. Anyhow, your father still had his duties to the clan, to the land. The dragons trusted him, you see, and that trust is hard-earned. He couldn't well leave it all behind." She paused, taking a deep breath. "The Ministry came to us, you see. They didn't want the Welsh Greens on 'their' land anymore. Wanted to round them up and ship 'em to the continent with every other bit of magic. They went to your father, asked for his help. He knew the tunnels and caverns of the dragons better than any, perhaps."

Mairwen poured another generous dollop of whiskey into Helga mug, watching her again as she sipped more slowly this time.

"Your father could not leave the dragons to their fate, not even for your mother, or you. We're a proud sort, we Hufflepuffs. We don't take our duties lightly." She gestured to the strange tapestry. "The badger is the symbol of our clan. Your father, he refused to help the ministry. He decides he's going to stop them. Well when the ministry comes, Eurig warns the dragons, he and my husband, all our young men, lead them deeper into the caverns. He warned the Minister's men not to enter the tunnels..." She shook her head. "The fools followed. Not a single ministry wizard came out alive. My husband..." She lowered her head. "Never returned. Two weeks later Eurig came out of the tunnels, covered in ash and blood. He tried to save them, he said, but it is not the nature of a dragon to forgive, he refused to go back in the caverns, said it was too horrible. They took him to Azkaban. Four years he was on that rock. Then they brought him home...like this." She finished quietly.

Helga looked down at her mug, watching the liquid swirling about. Her father had been alive, over four years after he left them. He had needed them. Why had her mother not searched for him? She looked back at Mairwen, who had also lost her husband. She understood now why the woman was so rough, so angry at her when she first arrived.

Aunt Mairwen looked back at her niece, her expression softer. "Ah little one, you got your father's complexion. That Hufflepuff strain is strong," She eyed Salazar. "And don't you forget it." Mairwen reached across the table, stroking Helga's hair, more gentle than she had been since their arrival.

"It's a shame your father can't see you now." She laughed, "He'd tell me to put some meat on your bones."

"Your husband..." Helga asked, "What happened to him?"

She sighed, her eyes misty. "We returned to the tunnel, but we never found him, not any of them. The dragons had been massacred. Only a few remained, they were weak. The ministry men came back of course, but we only dug deeper. There are tunnels in those mountains that go on to the center of the earth. Three years ago the old Minister died. They stopped coming."

Helga looked at Godric at Salazar. "Potter." She whispered. Godric looked strained.

Helga looked about the room, seeing the pale faces and light-hair of her family for the first time. They all looked back at her, some smiling, some looking concerned. She noticed that many of the older men and women had burns across their arms and faces. Only the old and the young, she noted.

"Oh child." Old Uncle Irwyn had come, seating himself beside Mairwen. "We thought you were lost to us." He reached across the table, taking Helga's free hand. She looked down at his hand, worn and scarred over, holding her own.

"After mother died I was alone for so long." Helga whispered. "I didn't know..." She stopped, glancing down at some of the children, staring back at her curiously.

Mairwen smiled. "There's still time, you know." She looked to the two wizards. "I suppose she can't stay?"

Helga slowly shook her head, and Salazar's arm tightened beside her. The woman sighed.

...

Helga sat on the low hillside, turning the small golden cup over in her hands. The cup was engraved with the image of a badger, surrounded by tall grasses. The base appeared to be carved into dragon scales. Uncle Irwyn had told her that the cup had been her grandfather's, gold from the dragons hoard. She stared back at the house below her on the hill, smoke rising from the hearth. She could hear the voices of her family, hear Godric's booming laugh, wafting up to her through the valley. The door opened, and Salazar made his way to her, picking through the darkness. In the morning, they would be leaving again. She shifted as Salazar sat, awkwardly, in the grass beside her, and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

"I cannot give you that." He said quietly.

"Give me what?"

"Family. Your father." The wizard shook his head. "I could never be like him. I'm not...a hero."

Helga plucked lightly at the grass, making a small pile. "I don't want you to be like him." She said evenly.

"When I saved you in Romania..." He shook his head again, looking down. "I saved you for myself, Helga. I saved you for the wrong reasons. I wanted you safe because I didn't want to lose you. I couldn't."

Helga leaned in, taking a deep breath of his scent. "If you left me, I don't know what I would do." She said softly.

His voice rumbled in his chest, and she closed her eyes at the vibration. "If it were everything else in the world I would let it fall to dust. I couldn't do what your father did, protecting the dragons, leaving you and your mother behind." He said bitterly. "I would let the world burn for you."

Helga took a breath, steadying herself. "Salazar, that is not a wicked thing."

"Isn't it?" He whispered. "I saw what it means to you. Being here with them. And I hate them for it. I hate them because they might take you away from me."

"They won't."

Salazar took her hand, turning it over in his own. When he spoke his voice was cautious, almost frightened.

"I'm a selfish man, Helga. There are so many things...I have not told you." He ran his lips across his knuckles. "If I truly loved you, I would tell you to stay here, where you're safe. Far, far away from me."

"I feel safe around you."

"You may not always." He said darkly. Helga looked up into his face. He was stoney.

"Do you know why I killed those muggles?" He asked softly.

Helga stared at him, her eyes wary. They did not speak of this, not since that night. "To avenge your parents."

"No." He laughed darkly. "I killed them because I was angry. I hated them for what they took from me. They thought they had the right to take what was mine. To leave me with nothing." He spoke bitterly. "That is not love, Helga. That is greed. Your father..." He stared back at the house. "He loved you, he must have loved you and your mother, all his family, a great deal, but still he went, knowing he could lose it all. I could never do that."

She sighed, taking her hand from his and running it over his face. He shuddered at her touch.

"But you would." He said. "You would go if lives were at stake. You would leave me." He whispered. "If you came back to me, the way he did...I would hate you, Helga. I would hate you as I hated those muggles. I would resent you for leaving me, for putting yourself in danger, I would despise what you had become."

"Salazar," Helga said slowly. "You are wrong. I love you. I know you think that I should not, you're trying to push me away. Maybe you don't understand that you can't anymore." She leaned up, kissing him softly. "You are my Dragon, Lord Slytherin. I would hollow out mountains for you. I would protect you above all else." She looked at him, her eyes burning. "I would give my life for you."

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her now.

"You know they risk of loving me, don't you?" He whispered. "What was it the seer said? 'The last of your line will destroy all you hold dear'." He nuzzled her hair. "I am the last of my line, Helga. I am the last of the House of Slytherin."

Helga tilted her head up, smiling at him slightly. "Then I await my destruction."

 _Hello!  
Well this chapter has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster (for me at least). I'm trying to delve a little deeper into what it means to be a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin in terms of love. Ambition, a sense of ownership, cunning...mixed with complete self-sacrifice and unconditional trust and care. Seems like the making of a very strange relationship. I've drawn a lot on our (few) source materials on Slytherin love: Regulus Black and Narcissa Malfoy (I'd say Snape but apparently JKR doesn't think he should have been a Slytherin, but oh well, agree to disagree). Of course Regulus and Narcissa were self-sacrificing and loved very deeply, though Narcissa didn't particularly care what happened to anyone else as long as Draco was safe (which is sort of Salazar's feeling here). What do you all think?_

 _Mairwen has been one of my favorite characters to write. I got to give her a lovely old Welsh name and make her very tough, but she's still a Hufflepuff beneath all that. Also, enter THE CUP. In Old English mythology, badgers were believed to tunnel all the way through mountains, sometimes to the center of the earth. Badger mythology is clearly under-appreciated.  
_


	12. Chapter 12

Helga sat at the table in the Great Hall, staring at the pile of envelops in front of her. Rowena had gone above and beyond her duties, creating a spell that could rival even the Ministry in it's thoroughness. Every magical child in Britain between the ages of 11 and 17 had been found, as well as their names and addresses. While the children from wizarding families had been reasonably simple to find and contact, the muggleborns were presenting a greater challenge.

"We cannot simply write to them." She said, looking across the table at Godric. Rowena had taken to her room, feeling ill, and Salazar had excused himself, claiming he still had supplies to procure for the Potions classroom, leaving Helga with Tallus and Godric, staring at the piles of letters, already written in Rowena's clean hand.

"Why not?" Tallus asked, looking up from his book.

Helga pointed at the papers before them.

"How do you think the muggles would react to seeing an owl bringing a letter calling one of their own children a witch or wizard?" Helga said, frustrated. "At the very least they would burn the letters. At worst they would kill the child, and their families, perhaps."

Tallus pondered her words for a moment, while Godric merely looked frustrated.

"Perhaps it would do them some good to know that there own are being called upon." Godric said, leaning back in his chair. "The muggles cannot fear us forever. Eventually they will find out that we exist. Why not tell them?" He asked.

Helga sighed, frustrated. "It's not so simple, Godric. You know that. Imagine you were a child, how would you react to finding out that you were the one thing you had been raised to fear most?"

"So what are you suggesting? That we deliver each of these letters personally?" Tallus asked, thoughtful.

"That is exactly what I am suggesting."

Godric sat up, looking startled.

"We can't, Helga." He said firmly. "There must be a hundred muggle-borns here. We cannot possibly visit all of them individually. There simply isn't time."

Helga glared.

"Between all of us, I think it's possible. If the four of us worked together, along with the professors, that would only be a few each."

Godric shook his head. "It would be too dangerous. You have no idea how they could react. Many more innocents could die."

Helga stood, slamming her hand down on the table, making both of the men jump.

"And how many would die if we didn't, Godric?" She shouted. "We have a duty to these children. Without proper guidance, their magic could spiral out of control. Surely you aren't afraid of a few muggles!"

Godric looked down, "Of course not, but-."

"But nothing!" Helga said angrily. "If you don't help, I promise you, I will be doing this alone. What is our purpose if not to protect these children?"

Godric stared at her for a long moment, thinking.

"I'll go, Helga." Tallus said quietly. Godric looked at him, forlorn.

"I will go." Godric said slowly. "But you won't convince Salazar. He won't be flying into save the muggleborn children, you can be sure of that."

Helga smiled slightly. "Leave Salazar to me."

...

"Helga." Salazar looked up as she entered the dungeons, surprised. "I thought you were busy with the letters."

"I need your help." She said, seating herself at one of the low stools in front of him. "The wizard-born are no issue, but the muggle born children cannot simply be sent a letter. Some of them cannot even read." She looked at him pleadingly, "And those that could might be too frightened to respond. We need to go to them, explain the situation."

Salazar stared back at her, leaning into his desk.

"I had wondered when you would come to that." He said softly. "I cannot go, Helga. You know that. I cannot speak with those..." He faltered, looking pained.

"Salazar, I will be going, regardless of what you do." She said firmly. "We made a promise when we started this to help these children. I will be going to each of them, one way or another." She looked at him challengingly. "But you know, it could be dangerous. If I were hurt trying to help these children, would you really feel good about sitting here safely, doing nothing?"

Salazar stiffened, staring at her.

"That sounded suspiciously like blackmail, Helga." He said softly.

She paled.

"I didn't mean-."

"You did." Salazar said simply, rounding the desk to face her. He knelt before her.

"Very well, you can have your way, Helga. I will go with you," He said, his eyes burning at her. "But only to ensure your safe return."

"That's all I need." She smiled at him, standing to go, but he caught her hand, pulling her back to him.

"I'm rubbing off on you." He said, chucking her playfully under the chin. She grimaced.

"Only your better attributes, Lord Slytherin."

He leaned in, whispering into her hair.

"I will expect something in return for my compliance." He turned her hand over, kissing her palm lightly.

"I'll bake you a cake." She laughed, trying to pull away again, but he held her fast.

"Be careful, Helga." He said softly. "You're playing a dangerous game. I don't like to be toyed with." He looked at her, and she shivered slightly..

"I'm not toying with you." She said firmly, and the danger left his eyes. He smiled, tilting her head down to meet him, and kissed her softly.

"Good." He whispered.

...

Helga knocked nervously at the door to the small house. She looked over her shoulder. Salazar was standing at the end of the narrow cobblestone street in the distance, watching her. In the end the faculty, excepting Hector, had all agreed to help her deliver the letters. Salazar had offered to assist Helga, much to the others' surprise, though he maintained it was only as an added precaution. The first visits had gone well, the muggles, though nervous, were largely convinced that Hogwarts was a safer place for their children than their villages. Helga had given each of the families a little money to travel to London, where they would meet their coaches, as well as directions to Gringotts, where they could pick up money from the student vault for their school supplies. The families had been grateful, welcoming even, but now Helga was strangely nervous. This last hovel had an aura of death about it. An old man opened the door smoking a long pipe.

"Hello." Helga smiled brightly. "Does William Prince live here?"

The old man leered at her.

"Aye." He said slowly, "What did 'e do now?"

"Oh! He hasn't done anything." Helga said sweetly, trying to peer into the dark room behind the man. "Are you his father?"

"Ain't got no father, 'as 'e?" The man grumbled. "Ain't got much o' nothin'."

Helga frowned. "I see...is he here, by any chance?"

The man turned. "Boy!" He called sharply. A pale child, more slim than Helga had thought possible, wandered into the light, squinting.

"The lady's 'ere for ya. Been stealin' from the manor again, 'ave you?"

"No, sir." The boy said quietly, staring at the ground.

"He hasn't done anything at all, Mr.-?" Helga looked at the man questioningly.

"Church." The man barked, and Helga stared for a moment before turning back to the boy.

"Is there somewhere I could speak privately with your...ward...Mr. Church?""

The man looked over her a long moment, his eyes lingering on the silver hook that fastened her traveling cloak before he nodded and waved her inside, pushing the boy in ahead of him. The boy stumbled a moment, then stood, not looking at Helga. The inside of the house was hung with hides. Clearly, Mr. Church was a tanner. Helga looked at the man again as he stood in the doorway.

"If I may, I'd like to speak with William alone, sir." She said, with what she hoped was a winning smile. The man grunted, storming through a small door in the back.

"William, you need not worry." She said softly once Mr. Church had gone. "I'm not going to harm you, I promise."

The boy looked up at her at last, his eyes pale blue.

"Who are you?" He asked simply.

"My name is Helga Hufflepuff." She said, kneeling to be eye level with the boy. "I'm from a wonderful school, a ways away from here. Have you ever been to school, William?"

The boy looked embarassed and shook his head minutely.

Helga took a deep breath. "Can you read, William?" Again he shook his head.

"Well tell me William, have you ever noticed strange things happening. Perhaps when you were frightened or angry?" The boys eyes widened then, but he shook his head hesitantly.

"I imagine you may have, even if you don't wish to tell me."

He looked frightened now. "What's this about, miss?"

Helga raised a hand to touch his shoulder, but he winced away from her, wary. She sighed, lowering her hand again.

"Have you heard of magic, William?"

The boy stared at her. "Ain't no good Christian what can do black magic, miss."

"Ah," Helga smiled a little, "But this isn't black magic at all, William. Here." She opened her hand, and a small blue butterfly appeared, fluttering it's wings softly. It flew up, touching William's nose before vanishing in a cloud of shimmering dust. The small boy's jaw dropped.

"Now what would you say..." Helga said quietly. "If I told you that you could do magic like that?"

The boy shook his head fervently, "No miss, no! I ain't no witch!"

"Of course not." Helga smiled, taking his small, rough hand in hers. "You're a wizard. Now I'll ask you again, have you ever done something strange, something you couldn't explain?"

William's eyes grew wider still. "I flew once." He said quietly. "Mr. Church was lookin' for me. He was awful angry, and I flew clear over Mrs. Brown's house, running away."

Helga smiled. "Now what if I told you that there is a place, a safe place, for children just like you who can do special things. Where they can learn to read? Learn to do all sorts of wonderful magic?" The boy stared at her. "Would you like to go to that place, William?"

He nodded slowly, and Helga smiled. Reaching into her cloak and taking out a small brown sack.

"Now, in a fortnight, I'd like you to take this. You don't have to tell Mr. Church if you don't want to, and I'd like you to hire a wagon to London, in Lime Street. There will be a man there in a shop called Chalks, ask him to point you to Diagon Alley, you got that?"

William took the purse, nodding slowly.

"Will you be there, miss?" He asked quietly.

"Would you like me to be, William?" She asked. The boy nodded again, not meeting her eyes.

"Then I'll be there." She said softly. "Now William, this is very important. Don't tell anybody, not a single soul, what I've said to you, alright? There are people who might not understand."

The little boy looked up at her again, his eyes wet.

"Are my parents there, miss?" He asked softly. "At the school. They...they went away."

Helga felt her heart fall a little, looking into the boy's clear eyes. "I'm afraid not William, but I will be, and so will lots of other boys and girls."

William nodded, wiping his face on his sleeve. There was a small crash from the other room and Mr. Church stood at the door, leering at Helga.

"You giving the boy money?" He asked, eyeing the purse in William's hands.

"That's none of your concern." Helga said, rising from the floor. The man took a step closer to her, and she realized, with some displeasure, how much larger he was than her.

"Well what are you going to do with 'im?" The man asked, his face stormy.

"Nothing, Mr. Church. William is a very important boy. He has been given a special opportunity. I will be sending for him very soon." Helga said icily, turning to leave.

"'Ere, 'old on a minute." Mr. Church said, grabbing Helga by the arm. "The boy's my property see, 'e was sent to me."

Helga glared. "If you please, Mr. Church, release me."

"Now see 'ere!" The man roared, yanking Helga almost off her feet. William let out a little cry, seeing the small woman being dragged back toward his master. Helga's hand shot to her wand pocket, but the man grabbed her wrists roughly.

"You tryin' to steal from me, missus?" He roared in her face. William sank back into the shadows, looking terrified. Mr. Church fingered the silver fasten.

"''Aven't you nobles got enough? Now you come to steal my living." His eyes were murderous.

There was a boom from behind them, and Helga sighed.

"If I were you I would let the lady go." Salazar's voice came from the doorway. Mr. Church pushed Helga away suddenly, and she turned to see Salazar glaring, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Mr. Church stared at Salazar before pushing Helga away. She stumbled slightly before regaining her footing, her hand finally diving into her pocket to grab her wand. William watched, his brow creased with worry.

"If I ever catch you handling her or this lad roughly again, peasant," Salazar continued, his voice dripping with venom, "You will wish you had never been born."

He took Helga by the elbow and led her away, leaving Mr. Church glaring at William. Once they reached a safe distance, Salazar apparated Helga to the outer edge of the Forbidden Forest, still glaring.

"I hope it was worth it." He said coldly, sweeping past her into the forest. Helga followed him down the path.

"It was." She said quietly. Salazar stiffened, but did not turn.

...

 _Hey everyone,_

 _Sorry if this chapter wasn't as exciting as the past few. The time for Hogwarts to open is growing closer, presenting new challenges. Helga is pushing Salazar a little harder than he is used to being pushed, but that's probably a good thing. Also, I know the Prince family are supposed to be purebloods, but surely going back to the 10th century is far enough to satisfy even Malfoy standards (Hmm...we haven't seen the Malfoys yet, how odd...)_

 _Speaking of the Malfoys, I have just published the first chapter of a new, modern story, starring Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass. It's not quite as action-packed as "Witch Hunt", but if you like what I've worked on here, you may enjoy it. It's called "Coping" (warning: unlike "Witch Hunt" it is rated M for some adult themes). Again, thank you for the reviews, it's wonderful to hear from you all. Feel free to let me know how I am doing or if you have any questions/suggestions._


	13. Chapter 13

_Authors Note: Sorry for the long hiatus everyone, my other story, "Coping" was taking a bit of precedent as it required less historical readings. Updates for this story may continue to be a bit sporadic, thanks to university classes starting up again. However, I PROMISE I will work harder to be sure there isn't another month long period without updates. Reviews help keep me on track, so if you have any questions or comments, please let me know! Now, on with the story._

...

Helga surveyed the kitchen with marked apprehension. The house elves had been working day and night in preparation for the feast. The students were already well on their way, having been met the Hogwarts coaches some hours before in London. Godric and Tallus had gone to guarantee that no muggles could interfere, while Helga and Rowena had remained behind to prepare for the arrival of the students. As Helga watched the house elves, busily toiling over the ovens, she could not help but wonder at Salazar. Since the excursion to fetch the muggleborns, he had become more withdrawn, spending ever more time in his quarters in the dungeons. At mealtimes he had spoken only to Hector, and occasionally Godric. He had staunchly avoided Helga in the corridors, disappearing as she rounded corners, or else simply refusing to acknowledge her. Through Godric, Helga had gleaned that Salazar's issues surrounding the sorting of Houses had grown more and more troublesome as the start of the term grew nearer. Though Godric would not go into detail, Helga knew that Salazar was deeply troubled by the events involving the Prince boy and his muggle guardian.

"Miss Helga?" Helga was roused from her musings by one of the house elves, who was watching her with earnest concern.

"What is it, Kippy?"

The house elf shuffled his feet. "We has the feast under control, miss, if you's worried. Begging your pardon miss, but the carriages will be arriving soon. Shouldn't Miss Helga be getting ready?"

Helga smiled down at the small elf, seeing the others watching her. They had never before shooed her out of her own kitchen. She nodded, removing her flour-covered apron and dusting her hands.

"You're right, Kippy. I suppose I should go dress. If Rowena stops by, could you tell her that I will be in my chambers?" The elf nodded, and Helga turned, making her way back to her quarters. Rowena, too, had been increasingly anxious in recent weeks, as her pregnancy progressed. She was spending ever more time in the library, musing over books on child-rearing. Helga hoped that the arrival of the students might ease her worries.

As Helga entered her quarters, she went immediately to her wardrobe. Rowena and Mrs. Prewett had insisted she wear something suitably elegant to greet the students, and so she had gone to the nearby village to procure rich, umber robes, woven with deep green and gold thread. Helga fussed with her hair a moment, before finally settling on her usual long plaits. The students would eventually have to learn to accept her usual "peasant" dress, as Salazar had once described it. It was then that Helga saw the roses. They were deep red, arranged beautifully on the small table by her bed. She searched in vain for some sign of who might have sent them, but could find none. _Salazar._ She smiled inwardly. If this was a peace offering, or merely an observance of the occasion she did not mind. She plucked one of the smaller rose buds and tucked it artfully into her hair.

...

The Great Hall was breathtaking, bathed in a warm glow from the small floating lanterns that hung above each house table. Rowena, ever sensible, had crafted beautiful tapestries, depicting the crest of each house founder, to hang above the tables. Helga made her way to the long table at the end of the hall, seeing Godric and Talus had already returned and taken up their places. Rowena looked strained, but beautiful in her deep, midnight blue robes, and Salazar sat at Godric's side, deep in conversation with Hector. Salazar, like the others, looked up as Helga entered, his eyes moving to the small rose adorning her hair. Helga tried to meet his eye, but he only nodded slightly in greeting and turned back to Hector.

"The Students have arrived." Godric said warmly as Helga took her seat beside him. "Mrs. Filch is showing them in."

"Wonderful." Helga beamed. She could already hear the growing sound of hundreds of voices, gathering outside the doors the the Great Hall. Rowena leaned over.

"I've worked out the sorting." She whispered. "Salazar will be using Occlumency to assess the children, then communicate with us." Helga nodded, turning and meeting Salazar's eye, finding him watching her over his glass of wine. He held her gaze for a long moment, and she felt a strange chill. His eyes had none of their usual warmth for her, only a strange, calculating glint. She blushed deeply, but refused to look away. Finally, he turned to Godric, muttering something to the other man, who let out a booming laugh. Then there was a sound, like trumpets, and the doors opened.

Helga had not truly understood the number of children that would answer the call to Hogwarts. Young witches and wizards, ranging from eleven to seventeen filed in, each staring in awe around at the Great Hall. Some were wearing fine, fresh black robes, while others stood in drab hand me downs. Helga looked into each of the young faces, turned upward toward the starry ceiling, and couldn't help but think how beautiful they were. Godric stood as the last of the children entered and Mrs. Filch closed the door behind them and spread his arms wide.

"Welcome, students, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" He rumbled. A scattered applause rose from the lines, and Helga beamed out at them, looking at each face in turn. Her eyes fell upon little Will Prince, who smiled weakly at her.

"Before we commence the feast, allow me to welcome all of you." Godric said, grinning. "I am Godric Gryffindor, and I shall be heading the house of Gryffindor. Allow me to present my fellows. To my right," He gestured to Salazar, "I present Salazar Slytherin, who will head the Slytherin House. To my left," He took Helga's hand, helping her to her feet, "Helga Hufflepuff, head of the Hufflepuff House." Helga smiled at the small smattering of cheers. "And finally, the lovely Rowena Ravenclaw, Mistress of the Ravenclaw House. From all of us, welcome." He gestured to Rowena, who eased to her feet as Salazar rounded the table to face the students.

"Lord Gryffindor has mentioned houses." Rowena began, her voice stronger and more melodic than Helga had heard in months. "For the purpose of organization, myself and the other founders will be sorting you, into our houses, according to your own deepest and most true selves. Each of us has placed value on a different area of witchcraft and wizardry." With a flourish of Rowena's wand, a stream of silver letters burst forth, floating over each of the four house crests. Over her own, the letters read _Intelligence,_ over the Gryffindor crest read _Courage,_ over Slytherin was the word _Ambition_ , and over Helga's crest hung the word _Kindness._

"These four qualities are those needed to become a truly remarkable witch or wizard. We will sort you by your virtues, but always remember, children, it is only when the strengths of the houses combine that true greatness can be achieved." Rowena said, looking out fondly over the mass of students.

Salazar took his place, standing at the front center of the head table, and with a wave of his wand, a long scroll appeared in his arm. He looked down. "Abel, Frederick." He called. "Come forward." A small boy of perhaps thirteen stepped nervously forward. Salazar looked down at him, his eyes boring into the boy. He paused for a long moment, then Helga felt a flash of emotion, _strength, integrity, longing._ She gasped lightly, hearing Salazar call out.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Godric let out a small woop and sprang to his feet. The boy looked uncertainly around before sidling over to the table beneath the Gryffindor crest and taking a seat.

"Abbott, Sarah." Salazar. Called. The girl stepped up eagerly. Again Helga was overwhelmed by a sudden influx of emotion. _Love._ It took only a moment, then Salazar cried out. "HUFFLEPUFF!" Helga smiled at the girl, who blushed heavily before racing to her table. As Salazar continued down the list, each table slowly filled.

"Prince, William!" Salazar called, looking down as the familiar boy moved forward. Then it hit Helga. _Determination._

Salazar looked for a long moment down at the boy before smiling. "Slytherin." He almost whispered. The boy stared up at him, his face blank, then he made his way to join the others at the table. Helga felt a pang. He was the first of the muggleborns to be sorted into Salazar's house. She looked across at Salazar, finding him looking back at her, then he cleared his throat and continued down the list. Helga felt her chest tightening as she looked at Salazar.

 _He didn't have to take him._ She thought.

As the list concluded, with the final girl dashing off to join the Ravenclaw table, the parchment erupted in flame. Salazar turned, making his way back to his seat with a slow, animal grace.

Thus, Godric announced the feast. Helga waved her wand, and instantly food appeared on the tables. She let out a low sigh. The house elves had done well.

...

Helga had lead the children to her common room, seeing that each had all of their belongings stashed neatly at the foot of their beds. Finally, after the last of them had retreated, she turned, going back through the small door in the Hufflepuff common room that lead to her private quarters.

She almost shrieked when she saw him, standing by her bed in his dark robes, his back toward her.

"Salazar!" She gasped, and he turned, moving toward her.

"W-what are you doing here?" She whispered. Salazar paused, only inches from her face. Then he dove down, meeting her lips.

She allowed herself a moment to remember the feel of him, the warmth behind the cold mask, but only a moment.

"Stop!" She cried, pushing him away. He stepped back, lowering his head.

"I'm sorry Helga." He murmured. "I just-."

"You can't!" She babbled, her volume rising. "You can't just _do_ this! You go weeks and weeks without even looking at me then show up here. Y-you can't just act like that never happened."

Salazar raised his eyes to look at her, and for the first time Helga saw the deep blue circled under his eyes. The unmistakeable look of strain.

"I'm sorry." He said again. Helga could feel the heat in her face, moving up and stinging her eyes.

" _Why_ Salazar?" She whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why did you shut me out?" She could hear her voice shaking, bitter and angry. Then his arms were around her, and he stroked her hair.

"I promised you I would protect you." He whispered. "I was trying to...keep you safe...from me." He pressed cool lips to her forehead, and in spite of herself Helga felt herself melting into him. "I just can't. I can't see you and not want you. Not be with you."

Helga looked up. "I can't do this. Not if you're just going to disappear like that." She paused, trying to catch her breath.

"Please promise me you won't ever, ever disappear again."

Salazar looked at her for a long moment, and she could see the pain in his eyes, the confusion. He trailed his fingers up to the rose in her hair, leaning forward and inhaling deeply before replying, so softly she could hardly hear.

"I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

Rowena screamed, a long, sustained cry, almost animalistic. It was so unlike her that Helga almost cried out too. Swiftly, without looking up from her patient, Mrs. Prewett cast a silencing charm. Talus and the students need not hear. Rowena screamed again, her legs shaking erratically.

"Is it supposed to hurt her this much?" Helga asked quietly. Mrs. Prewett gave her a stern look, but Rowena squeezed her hand softly.

Mrs. Prewett rose from her stool at Rowena's feet, taking a small handful of herbs and tossing them into the boiling cauldron over the fireplace. A thick, purple smoke moved through the room, filling it with the scent of wildflowers.

"You know what they say." She said, trying to sound light. "Childbirth is the woman's battle. Rowena is a warrior."

Rowena smiled weakly and Helga gripped her hand.

"You carried this child when you fought dragons." Helga whispered into Rowena's hair. At that, Rowena almost laughs.

"So what's one more battle between friends?" She gasped. Helga stroked her hair, it was unlike Rowena to make jokes. Somehow, it worried her more.

A sound, Mrs. Prewett gasping. Blood pooled over the floor. Mrs. Prewett rushed over, conjuring a damp cloth in midair. She began to dab gently, wiping the blood from Rowena's legs. For the first time, she could not hide her worry.

Helga stood, her hand still clasped in Rowena's.

"Should I call Talus?"

Mrs. Prewett shook her head. "Leave him be." She muttered, continuing cleaning the blood from Rowena's lap. "He should not see this."

With that Rowena let out another scream. Her legs were shaking, even more violently. More blood pooled on the floor.

...

Helga sat in the quiet room, hung with green tapestries, adorned with silver embroidery in the image of a serpent. A heavy, black desk sat at the far corner of the room, and the musty smell of stone and earth seemed to hang heavy in the air. She sat on the bed, plain, but surprisingly warm and soft, richly hung with heavy cloth, a secret hideaway.

"Helga?"

She turned as Salazar entered. It was always a surprise to see him, his dark hair sleek, his robes billowing at his feet. He moved-she thought-like smoke, soundless and graceful. As he came to the bed he looked about, a small smile playing on his face.

"You have chosen strange fittings for the Room of Requirement." He murmured, stooping to kiss her. She leaned back into the bed as the kiss deepened, and he moved, holding his body over hers.

"I always think this room should reflect the place I have been happiest." She whispered into his mouth. He chuckled lightly.

"You are a wonder, Helga. Even now, you surprise me."

Helga raised a hand, running it gently over his cheek. His eyes remained, as ever, locked on hers, as though he were speaking only to her.

"How is Rowena?" He asked, settling beside her on the bed. He took a lock of her golden hair and twirled it between his fingers.

"Delighted. She's decided to call her Helena, after her mother." Helga sighed. She had been awake for hours now, tending to Rowena. Helga had never before understood the challenges of midwifery. Mrs. Prewett, of course, had remained, ever sensible, but it was Helga who comforted her when the baby refused to turn, Helga who placed cool cloths over her head as Talus paced worriedly in the corridor. Finally, thirteen hours in, when the girl came, crying, into the world, it was Helga who held Rowena as she wept in relief. Salazar and Godric had tried to comfort Talus, but to no avail. Even Rowena's house was on edge. When the child was born, the entire castle seemed to relax. Rowena's difficulties carrying the child had only increased as time wore on, though she tried to hide it. The girl did not want to leave her womb. At long last, with Mrs. Prewett's guiding hand, the babe had come.

"And you?" Salazar asked, peering into Helga's face. Her normally flushed cheeks seemed pale, her eyes heavily lidded, as though she was fighting to stay awake. He had hoped she would be able to come at the usual time, their private time away from their duties. Now that she had, he felt a sting of guilt. She should be resting. Even Godric had gone to bed hours before.

Helga smiled. "I feel as though a weight has lifted." She sighed.

Salazar nodded. "It has. The girl is healthy and happy, as is Rowena. All thanks to you." He took her hand and brushed his lips softly over her knuckles. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation.

"And Mrs. Prewett." She mumbled, pursing her lips.

"You must rest." He said. "You've been awake for far too long."

Helga's eyes shot open and she shook her head fiercely.

"Stay with me." She pleaded. Salazar laughed lightly, kissing her hand again and settled next to her. They were quiet for a long moment, Salazar simply listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Salazar..." She said slowly after a long moment. "Do you ever think...well," She blushed, trying to find the words. "Do you think you might ever want that? I mean what Talus and Rowena have?"

He stiffened beside her, and Helga tried not to look into his face.

"A child?" He whispered.

"A child, a marriage. Do you think you could ever..." She found she couldn't finish the question.

Salazar sat up, staring over the room, the mirror image of his room. The bed was softer, certainly, more homey, and the way she laid across it, as she had never lain across his own bed made him feel strange, uncertain of himself. He looked down at her, her face flushed with embarrassment, her hair splayed in rich waved over the covers, her clothes stained with blood and sweat from her long vigil at Rowena's side. If there was ever a woman he could truly love, this was her.

"I'm a broken man, Helga." He said softly. "What good would I be as a husband, as a father?"

She turned, burying her face in the sheets. She muttered something he could not hear, and he leaned closer.

"-because I love you." He heard her finish.

"What was that?"

She turned, staring him in the eye. "I know you don't think you deserve those things. Sometimes I don't think so either. The world is so uncertain, but when I look at you, I can't help but want you, all of you." She paused, blushing. "Because I love you." She said firmly.

He leaned down, kissing her softly. She was so soft, so warm and strange, unlike anything he had ever known. Almost without thinking he heard himself speak.

"If I asked you, would you marry me?"

He heard her gasp in his mouth. Then, in a breathy whisper.

"Yes."

He almost smiled. She was there, laying beside him, her eyes so full of hope. Somehow, he found he could not find the right words.

"Are you asking me?" She pressed, softly, kindly. Helga would understand if he could not, she always understood. He turned his head, taking her palm and kissing it reverently.

"I could not give you all that you deserve." He whispered.

"I only want you." She answered, her voice firm.

"Nothing else? No one else?" He asked, pain in his eyes. "You have known so little, Helga, there are other men, better men. With me, there would always be secrets, unanswered questions."

"I can live with secrets."

Salazar sat up, drawing his knees beneath him so he was kneeling before her on the bed.

"The others could not know."

"Why?" Helga sat up too, her eyes wide and pleading. "Why must we hide?"

Salazar hunched his shoulders. "The Slytherin clan is old, older than I could tell you. We carry...certain burdens. I am the last, you know that." He sighed. "There is a curse on my house. Our families...we are not happy. If I married you publicly...the curse could take you from me."

"You don't have to be alone." She said softly. When he didn't look at her, she too bowed her head.

"Secrets." She repeated, almost bitterly. Then finally, she spoke. "I could live with that, if I had you."

Salazar looked up, smiling, kissing her palm again fervently. "You would have me. Forever."

Helga closed her eyes with a small smile, leaning back into the bed.

"Are you asking me?" She repeated once more.

Salazar brushed his hand through his hair, looking boyish for the first time in a long time, months perhaps.

"Would you marry me?" He asked softly, before adding. "Secrets and all?"

Helga nodded, her eyes still blissfully closed.

"Secrets and all." She whispered.


End file.
